


Tale As Old As Time

by MeanderingMotivation



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Ardyn is Prompto's Adoptive Father, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Curses, Dorks in Love, Drama & Romance, Exasperated Ignis, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gladiolus is a low key romantic, Humor, M/M, Moody Prince Noctis, More tags to be added in time, No one is furniture tho, Noctis isn't REALLY a beast, Prince Charmless, Prompto is Adorable Sunshine Son, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-10-16 15:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 101,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeanderingMotivation/pseuds/MeanderingMotivation
Summary: Prompto is a photographer. He hears tales of a frightful beast that lurks in a secluded castle in abandoned Lucian territory. Enthused, he infiltrates the castle, only to find said beast comes in the form of a moody prince determined to break a horrible curse by wooing him.





	1. Never part of any crowd

**Author's Note:**

> So...hello to anyone reading.  
> Guess who just watched Beauty and the Beast at the cinema? I DID! I really enjoyed it (I've always had a massive bi crush on Emma Watson) and after seeing it, I was inspired to write, well, this.
> 
> Naturally, this story isn't completely like the movie. I just borrowed some elements. Which means NO ONE IS FURNITURE! Noctis isn't a hideous beast, and there is no Stockholm Syndrome aspects. You'll see what I mean if you read ;)
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 “The Lucian kingdom hasn’t been explored for years now, kid. Are you sure you want to do this?” Vyv questioned, fanning his face with the latest magazine from his publishing company.

It’s devoted to wildlife photography, and Prompto is the main contributor. He gets paid for each photograph he provides, and the price increases depending on the exoticness of his subject. He’d started out small, photographing anaks and sabertusks, before working himself upwards to more difficult subjects. Lately, he’d even risked staying out late, snapping shots of goblins and iron giants when they appeared.

The readers of the magazine were lapping it up, and the subscriber count had steeply rose. This meant that Prompto was trying even harder to impress the readers, and capture rare shots he otherwise would have avoided out of self-preservation.

“I don’t shy away from a challenge.” Prompto replied, angling the man a reassuring smile. Vyv had taken a shot on a rookie photographer, and he was grateful for that. Sure, at first the man had drastically underpaid him, but once he’d proven himself talented, Vyv had started compensating him more fairly. He was one of the man’s top contributors now. “Besides,” He added, when Vyv remained unconvinced. “You’ve heard the rumours of Lucis, right?”

“Myths, more like.” Vyv said dryly. “Fairy stories. Wives tales. There’s nothing truthful about those _rumours_ , Prompto.”

“Shun the non-believer!” Prompto cried jokingly, not put-off in the least. He was an explorer, and he felt compelled to venture into Lucis whether or not there was any validity to what was said about the abandoned kingdom. Most of what was said _was_ conjecture, and bordered on the absurd and nonsensical. But that only made it more enthralling to Prompto… “C’mon, Vyv. Imagine if there’s a hint of truth to those tales? What if there _is_ a beast lurking in that castle? Rife for the photo-taking?”

Vyv sighed, and tossed Prompto a purse filled with coins. It’s weighty, and the jingle of them rubbing together gives Prompto a merry feeling. “Well, I don’t think a great beast will want to eat someone so bony. So you’re probably safe, at least.”

“Lucky I keep to my diet!” Prompto chirped, tossing the coin purse up and down happily. He was staying in a hotel tonight! Not a tent, or a camper van, a _hotel._ He’d even buy himself a nice meal before commencing his new project. “Thanks, Vyv. I promise I won’t let you down!” It’s a sincere promise, and Vyv waves him away with that same magazine.

“You better not, you’re my best photographer. When you get back, we can talk about you taking portraits opposed to landscapes and animal shots.”

“Nope!” Prompto denied with levity. “I’m happy with landscapes and animal shots. If you want portraits, find another photographer.” Truthfully, Prompto didn’t find human subjects that interesting. He found their figures boring, and his attempts to make them appear more dynamic usually led to failure. He’d asked his adoptive father for advice on this matter, but the eccentric man had only suggested trying _nude subjects_ opposed to clothed ones.

_I should probably see him before I go to Lucis. Although he’ll probably-_

 

* * *

 

 

“Absolutely not!”

_Freak out._

Prompto peered upwards at his adoptive father, expression contrite. “But Papa-“

“Are you positively daft?” The man interjected, pacing restlessly. Prompto had found the man in one of his regular haunts, poised before a canvass and tracing a currently indistinguishable figure. The man was a wonderful artist, and often lamented Prompto’s passion for digital print opposed to the more traditional canvassing.  “You know what I’ve told you about Lucis, yet you still want to venture into that territory?”

“Don’t you?” Prompto challenged with a pout, not enjoying being lectured. Despite nearing his twenty first birthday, the man still treated him like a child. “You told me you used to live there. Why haven’t you gone back? Don’t you care about your home?”

The man scoffed, placing aside his easel to glare down at his son. “They cast me out _far_ before the city’s downfall, Prompto. I couldn’t care less about that foul cesspool.”

“You know, you still haven’t told me _why-“_

“Be a good lad and fetch me my hat, would you? Papa fancies a stroll.”

Prompto resisted the urge to throttle the man. “Papa-“

“Ah, what a fine day it is.” The man pointedly spoke over him. “The sun is shining, the sky is clear, and a trot atop a couple of chocobos will make it even grander…”

“Ardyn.” Prompto said seriously, using his father’s first name to garner his attention. Once the man started rambling, there was no going back. “I’m going. You can’t stop me.”

The man paused, his eyebrows near disappearing into his hairline. “Watch your tone, young man. I’m sure you’ll find I’m quite capable of keeping you locked away if I so desire.”

Prompto knew this, despite himself. Although Ardyn had adopted him as an infant, there was still much he didn’t know about the man. If he was a man _at all._ Prompto hadn’t neglected to notice that Ardyn didn’t age, nor had he overlooked the strange power the man seemed to hold. He was an enigma. Just like the kingdom of Lucis. “What are you so afraid of?” He demanded. “If Lucis is abandoned, why are you so scared-“

“I am not scared, boy.” Ardyn interjected coldly. “I feel no fear for my own welfare. You, on the other hand, are a delicate little boy who hasn’t the foggiest what he’s doing. You have no experience with combat, nor do you have a proper grasp for survival skills-“

“I take photos of dangerous animals and I survive just fine!”

“It’s precious that you think so.”

“THIS is why I never visit you!” Prompto exclaimed. “You’re always undermining me, telling me I can’t do things or that I’m weak or fragile or incapable or-“

“You’re different to everyone else, Prompto.” Ardyn interrupted curtly. “Haven’t you heard what they whisper behind your back? How they slander you _and_ me? I’m an abnormal relic from Lucis, and you’re an abandoned MT from Niflheim. We don’t fit in with other people. Why make it worse for yourself by endangering your life? Do you want to end up like your papa? Or do you want to live a long, happy _, normal_ life?”

Prompto calmed somewhat. He knew his papa was just trying to protect him. Yet, he couldn’t allow the man to walk all over him. Ardyn had a tendency to exploit his control in a rather mild manner. “As a matter of fact,” He uttered softly. “ ** _No,_** I don’t want that. Why would I want to fit in with the people who ostracised my father? The same people who have been consistently cruel to me because of my background? If being normal means being a colossal asshole, than I don’t wanna be normal! I’m _happy_ being like this!” Prompto panted at the end of his passionate rant. “Okay, Papa?” He looked to his father pleadingly. “ _Please_ don’t try and make me be someone I’m not.”

“But don’t you want to get married?” Ardyn questioned immediately. “There’s not a man or woman alive who wouldn’t be lucky to have you.”

It was a rather sweet remark, but Prompto merely rolled his blue eyes. Another of Ardyn’s traits, was his blatant insincerity in some matters. From the handful of suitors who _had_ been interested in Prompto, Ardyn hadn’t liked a single one. He always terrified whoever came to their door, in that subtle, charming way of his. And even in the case of his hardier love-interests…

Prompto was inclined to believe the man even sabotaged the few dates he had thus far been on. Why else would they have _all_ had such disastrous conclusions? The man had to have some part in it…

“As if you’d let anyone _close enough_ to woo me. Remember when I tried courting Cindy?” Prompto rolled his eyes once more when Ardyn made a show of trying to recall the female, tapping his chin with a vague hum. Cindy was the only person Prompto had actively tried to pursue himself, and Ardyn had stooped so low as to interfere with _that_ attempted relationship as well. It was such a shame, considering how attracted Prompto had been to her and her, well, _assets._ Even thinking about them was enough to make him blush… “You totally sabotaged my chances by making Cid hate my guts.” He went on, hoping Ardyn would overlook his hot cheeks.

Ardyn was dismissive of this, abandoning the pretence of not remembering the woman. “I saved you wasted time and effort.” He said aloofly, not ashamed in the least.

“I knew it!” Prompto said triumphantly. “You _did_ ruin my chances! I bet you bullied her into acting disinterested.”

“Nay, I am afraid not, sunflower. That disinterest was genuine. You’re, how do I put it…” Ardyn trailed off thoughtfully, before clicking his fingers a moment later _. “Too young for her._ Likely she wants to be spared the ridicule of robbing the metaphorical cradle, so to speak. Not to mention, I’m sure she is _far_ too busy running the garage’s operations to spare time for a romantic relationship.”

Prompto slumped over the table, dejected. Over the years, he’d grown more adept at gauging what was truth, and what was fallacy, in regards to his adoptive father. It was evident the man was telling the truth. Or at least a portion of it. Usually, the man would endeavour to spare Prompto the hurt of knowing he wasn’t desired. The golden haired male had always struggled with self-confidence, after all. Ardyn didn’t want to put him out, and remind him of how _inadequate_ he was-

“Don’t fret, dearest one.” Ardyn consoled in a gentle tone, stepping forward to ruffle Prompto’s messy locks. “I really don’t think she was compatible for you. You deserve someone better. Someone who isn’t so scantily clad-“

 _That_ was enough to burst Prompto out of his self-pity. Personally, he hadn’t minded how Cindy dressed, and it wasn’t just because he got to admire her _assets_ more openly. How females clothed themselves didn’t concern him. It was their choice. Besides, it was a total double-standard-

“Honestly, I don’t know how it’s _practical_. She’s a mechanic. Shouldn’t she be clothed in protective gear to prevent injury or ailment?”

Well, that _did_ make sense, Prompto had to admit. Working around machinery in such minimal clothing had to be a little dangerous…

_We’re getting off topic._

Still, he muttered an “ _Ugh_ , you’re so old fashioned.” Just for good measure.

Ardyn smirked at this, not affronted in the least. “You have _no idea_.”

_Why does he have to be so unabashed about his blatant ancient-ness? It is bad enough he wears those flamboyant clothes from like the last century-_

“And as far as the girl’s grandfather is concerned, you need not feel poorly about it.” Ardyn went on, as Prompto ogled his adoptive father’s current attire with distaste. “He’s a bad-tempered, uncultured brute. In his younger days, he was a Lucian as well.”

“Really?” Prompto blurted in surprise. To be honest, he’d always pictured Cid as a man happily confined to Hammerhead, living all of his days contently without ever venturing far from the sanctity of his beloved garage. Prompto had never seen him step ten feet away from his workshop, or the chair perched just outside! This was an exciting new development. Despite Ardyn apparently hailing from Lucis, he barely spoke about the place. But if Cid had any information, it would greatly aid him in his travels… “I’ve never heard him or Cindy mention it before.” Not that he was particularly close to the man, but he did see him on a semi-regular basis, considering Prompto used their services so frequently.

_I guess it makes sense he wouldn’t want to use a broken MT as a confidant. Niflheim never had a stellar relationship with Lucis, after all._

Absent-mindedly, Prompto rubbed at the black wristlet covering his barcode. He’d tried everything to get rid of the thing, but short of severe self-mutilation, it was impossible to erase the sad souvenir of his heritage. He’d contemplated slicing his flesh away with a blade once, but Ardyn had lectured him for so long that he’d decided the scarred skin wasn’t worth the effort. Apparently he should ‘embrace his past’. **_Yawn._**

“Do you think I could ask for his help?” Prompto ventured unsurely. “Any piece of information spared could be really useful, in the long-term.”

_Especially since Ardyn is being so irritatingly tight-lipped._

“I doubt he would assist you.” Ardyn replied shortly. “And _not_ just because of your biology.” He added, when Prompto appeared completely down-trodden. “Those who hail from Lucis tend to be notoriously secretive about their sordid history with the place.  There’s a possibility he can’t recall it, as well. Regular human’s memories tend to falter the more their bodies age. I recommend you let him be.”

A _nd by ‘recommend’ he really means ‘order’. I shouldn’t have expressed my interest. He’s going to be following me around for the next ten years._

And not always visibly, either. Ardyn had a heart-stopping tendency to suddenly appear from seemingly nowhere. Usually when Prompto was intending to do something the man would disapprove of. It was irksome. It made Prompto feel like he had no independence. 

“Well,” Prompto said slowly, not wanting to aggravate the man by appearing unreasonable. “You never know until you try, right? I may as well ask a few questions, since I have to pass through there to get to Lucis. He might even have a map! Outdated as it may be…”

Ardyn tutted, and waggled a finger at Prompto like he was a misbehaved brat. “Oh no. If you’re that desperate for information, you can glean it from _me._ Fraternising with such people will have unsavoury consequences.”

“You mean the same people who have welcomed me into Hammerhead? Who have been kind to me despite what everyone else says about me?” Prompto was unimpressed. “Papa, I really don’t understand you sometimes. We should appreciate tolerance.” He stood from his chair, and put aside the cup of tea he’d been sipping from. Tea was one of the only things Ardyn could prepare that didn’t taste horrible. It was like the man had no sense of taste. Truthfully, despite the years that had gone by, Prompto hardly ever saw Ardyn eat. He was always sipping from his personal flask, though. Prompto had snuck a sip as a child, once. The liquid within had burned his mouth, and made his eyes water. He hadn’t tried to drink any since, even when Ardyn offered him the flask on his eighteenth birthday.

“Oh sweetest thing,” Ardyn sighed, and he reached out to ruffle Prompto’s hair. His broad palm settled over his skull, and not for the first time, Prompto mused how easy it would be for the man to squeeze tight and crush it completely. “You’re too young and gullible to understand.”

Prompto scoffed, and batted the man away in annoyance. “Is now the time when you’re going to remind me of how I’ll never fit in with others, again? Because if it is, I’ll be taking my leave now.” It got hard after a while, hearing how different you were from everyone else. Sure, Prompto wouldn’t bother changing himself for anyone (Ardyn had taught him self-respect, after all) but no one liked to hear how odd they were all of the time…

“One day they will regret treating you in such a manner.” Ardyn replied, in a dark tone. “I promise you that, my dear boy. In the meantime, visit the library in Altissia. _Research_ before you go running in blindly.”

“But I thought _you_ were going to educate me-“

“I shall. _After_ I conclude my business in Galdin Quay. They’re hosting an artisan market, and I’d be loath to miss it. You can catch a ferry back once I’m finished.” Ardyn said this with resolution. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an **_order._** It was evident he didn’t want Prompto sneaking off to Lucis alone. Perhaps there _was_ some truth to the tales Prompto had heard…

Ardyn was an educated man. If he thought there was a threat to Prompto in Lucis, Prompto was inclined to trust him. Sure, Ardyn had always been morally ambiguous and a little oily, but he always had his adoptive son’s best interests at heart. _Even_ if he didn’t care about anyone else, and scorned the rest of humanity.

“Fine.” Prompto agreed reluctantly. He had enough money from his last commission to stay the night at The Leville, and buy himself some nice meals whilst he was at it. The seafood in Altissia was _to die for._ It was even better than the fresh produce from Galdin Quay.  However, fresh produce came with a steep price, one Prompto usually wasn’t able to pay. His diet mostly consisted of gathered vegetables and cupped ramen. He couldn’t afford much else, even with his increasing pay. Travelling costed Gil, and he couldn’t always travel by chocobo alone. _Especially_ into treacherous territory. He needed the security of a rented car to make a quick getaway if the need arose. Cindy always cut him a reasonable deal on a rusty old station-wagon, although it was still on the pricy side to Prompto. “But you better not disappear again!” Prompto said accusingly, narrowing his eyes. Ardyn had a habit of disappearing for days on end, before suddenly returning from his random ‘trips’ and scaring the living daylights out of Prompto. “I’m _serious,_ Papa. If I come back and you aren’t in Galdin Quay, I’m leaving without you. Understand?”

Ardyn didn’t appear concerned with Prompto’s ultimatum. He grabbed the hat he’d earlier requested Prompto to fetch, fitting it over his head. It was the same hat Prompto recalled from his earliest years, unchanged by time, just like its owner. It managed to suit him. Utterly unfair, in Prompto’s opinion. Ardyn looked dashing in _everything._ Prompto himself always looked like a shabby peasant, even in his finest clothing.

“Well, I’ll be off.” Ardyn decided, grabbing his signature coat. It was laying freshly pressed on his bed. “Care for a flutter at the races before I head for Galdin Quay?”

Prompto looked around the caravan Ardyn was currently keeping. It was clean, clinical. Likely the man had only been here a couple of days. He kept moving most of the time, but usually stayed longest at Whiz’s Outpost. Prompto couldn’t remember settling down anywhere longer than a few months his entire life. And that included when they’d lived in Niflheim and Tenebrae…

Some repressed part of him yearned for the stability of a home. A place to return to. A place he could stay forever if he so desired. That wasn’t Ardyn’s way, though, and by association, that meant it wasn’t his, either. He’d gone many years surviving solely in hotels and caravans, he wouldn’t even know what a real, concrete home felt like…

“And bet all of the hard gil I’ve earned?” Prompto smirked. “That would be a waste.”

_Unless, of course, the races were **fixed.** _

Ardyn didn’t have a gambling problem. A problem was something that caused difficulties, and the ridiculous amount of gil Ardyn managed to attain through gambling never caused any difficulties for him. Unless the begrudging losers could be counted as difficulties…

Needless to say, angry hustlers had learnt the hard way that Ardyn, despite his civil demeanour, was not one to be crossed. He could be positively lethal when the need (or mood) arose for the man.

_I don’t know how he always wins, and I don’t really want to find out, either. It’ll just bring more trouble to me._

Ardyn wasn’t the most conventional of guardians. Most people hissed how inept with children he was behind his back, despite his jovial behaviour and willingness to read to random kids hanging around his caravan. The books he selected may have had something to do with the people’s distaste…

Needless to say, they weren’t child-friendly material. Never let it be said that Ardyn was the soft-hearted kind. Nearly everything he did had an ulterior motive, and most of the aforementioned motives weren’t good.

It was plain puzzling to Prompto that the man had taken him in. He’d been a squalling infant, discarded from the failing MT program, yet Ardyn had plucked him from obscurity and raised him as his son. He’d even changed his diapers, and everything! The bastard brought it up sometimes just to embarrass Prompto…

“Suit yourself.” Ardyn shrugged his broad shoulders uncaringly. He didn’t return the smirk, but there was definitely a devious twinkle in his eyes. “Will you be staying the night, then?”

Prompto looked pointedly to all of the art materials covering the remaining bed. Ardyn was a restless sleeper, and Prompto hadn’t slept in the same bed as the man since he was _four._ If he insisted on sharing now, the man would never let him live it down. He could already imagine the mockery that would take place…

“I’m taking that sour expression signifies a ‘no’?”

“It signifies a ‘Fuck no’.”

“Charming.”

“Just be in Galdin Quay two days from now, old man.”

 

* * *

 

_Shiva, the Glacian, gentle as snow._

Prompto grumbled, shutting the slim book he’d been skimming. Altissia had an impressive library, but locating texts on Lucis was proving near impossible. It was like someone had removed any books that so much as mentioned the place…

He’d been scouring the library for a day and a half now, barely sparing time for rest as he searched with increasing dourness. The library was open until late in the night, so he waited for the finicky librarian to kick him out before having a quick bite at Maagho and crashing at The Leville. It was far from a sight-seeing holiday, but Prompto reasoned he could have that once he’d finished his job at Lucis. Then he could truly relax…

Prompto paused his browsing when he came across a well-worn recipe book.

_What is a cooking book doing in the history section?_

Despite knowing its categorization was likely a blunder, Prompto cracked it open, flicking his eyes over the index before flipping through the pages for good measure. He wasn’t finding anything useful in the other books, so he may as well make a thorough assessment. He practically yelped in excitement when he saw the word ‘Lucian’.

…only to realize it merely came before the word ‘Tomato’.

Frustrated, Prompto slammed the book closed (probably a little harder than needed, if one of the library’s attendant’s furious look was anything to go by) and resolved to have an early lunch. It seemed he’d be heading back to Galdin Quay just as oblivious as before.

_I wonder if Ardyn knew about the scarcity of this topic in the library…_

 

* * *

 

“Nothing? Ah, how unfortunate.”

Ardyn and Prompto were currently resting in the caravan at Galdin Quay. The man hadn’t done as well at the market as he had first anticipated. Not surprising, considering the reputation he had.

Even though the man was talented, he wasn’t deemed ‘normal’ enough to buy from. He had a naturally suspicious aura, and it tended to repel people without him really trying. It was such a shame, considering how amazing Ardyn’s works were. It used to make Prompto feel a surge of righteous indignation, but now he only felt resigned. The same happened to him as well when he tried to individually sell his photographs. It was why he relied so heavily on Vyv. His picture of a grazing herd of garulas had been dubbed ‘Imperial Propaganda’ once. Garulas! _Imperial Propaganda_! It was ridiculous!

“I’ve found that most libraries these days have a rather lacklustre collection.”

“Then _why_ did you send me to _Altissia_?”

“Altissia is renowned for its historical texts. I thought if there were to be any information on Lucis, it would be within its largest and most famous library.” Ardyn replied innocuously, stirring a pot of instant soup on the grimy stove-top. “Some of their books even date back centuries, although you require a special permit to browse them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have applied for one!”

“Applications take at least three to six months to process, and are rarely given out to civilians. They are usually reserved for government workers and political figures.”

“But that isn’t fair!” Immediately, Prompto winced at how childish he sounded. “I mean, don’t you think that’s kind of corrupt? Keeping the masses clueless to their history?”

“As a humble artist, I cannot contribute anything of real substance to this subject, Prompto. I know naught about politics.” The man paused, and Prompto pulled a face when he upended a whole container of salt into the blackened pot. Like Prompto had said previously, _no sense of taste._

“I don’t believe that.” Prompto said bluntly, crossing his arms in stubbornness. “You _always_ know more than you initially say. I’ve noticed that over the last twenty years.”

There was a long pause as Ardyn watched the simmering soup, before ladling up a large spoonful and slopping it into a tin bowl. He offered it to Prompto, who reluctantly accepted. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. So, he raised the bowl to his mouth, and took a small slurp. It was only then that Ardyn spoke, a pleased beam on his face.

“Now, isn’t that better? Food always lifts your spirits, doesn’t it, pet?”

Prompto looked to his adoptive father, eyes watering, and barely managed to swallow the horrific tasting mouthful. That soup was likely saltier than the _ocean._

_Or as salty as Ardyn whenever he loses at poker._

“It always manages to bring you to tears, as well. Perhaps I missed my culinary calling…”

“And deny the art world your paintings?” Prompt managed to get out without spluttering. “No way, Papa. It would be a grave loss.” He waited a whole ten seconds before diving for his cup of coffee, gulping the lukewarm water down. “Thirsty!” He spluttered, re-surfacing once the coffee had been completely drained, dregs and all. “Ha, ha…”

“How sweet of you to say such a thing to your dear father.” Ardyn praised, reaching forward to ruffle Prompto’s hair condescendingly. “I thank the Astrals every day for being blessed with such an adorable son.”

 ** _“Fuck off_** , Papa.”

“Tsk, tsk. Such foul language…”

 

* * *

 

Whether or not Ardyn purposefully sent him to Altissia (knowing of the library’s lacklustre contents) was no longer Prompto’s concern. He knew arguing with the man would be pointless, as Ardyn would only impart something when he was good and ready. No amount of blustering would get any results. Prompto knew this, as he’d tried before on countless occasions, to no avail.

Instead, he focused his attentions on preparing for the trip to Lucis. He asked around at all of the Crows Nest’s for details on the place, only to return from Lestallum (in a rather foul mood from being hit on by a persistent asshole) to find, much to his perturbation, that Ardyn had had a map all along. It was an old map, weathered by time and completely unreadable in five spots, but it was a _map_ nevertheless. It was a sturdy starting point.

Then, he’d needed to procure a car. It wouldn’t surprise him if he woke up one morning into his travels to find Ardyn had just taken off. So to prevent being stranded, he’d rented another car from Cindy. This one was equipped for off-road driving, and although it was more expensive, Prompto was _certain_ the extra gil would be worth it.

Then, lastly, the supplies. Food, clothing, _toilet paper_ (Prompto expected Lucis to have toilets, but who knew?) and other odds and ends. His photography equipment took up the most room, spread out on the empty backseats. Ardyn had, thankfully, agreed to take his own vehicle. A red car which he drove with reckless abandon. Prompto had used to get carsick as a child from his inconsistent speed…

And then they were ready.

They departed from Hammerhead, engines freshly topped with fuel. Prompto tried (and failed) to speak with Cid, and his attempts to impress Cindy with his latest photographs resulted in nothing but vaguely interested hums of “That’s sweet, hon.”

Ardyn had snickered at Prompto’s wasted efforts, and narrowly avoided a swift punch to the arm for his mockery.

_Sadistic asshole._

Prompto thought, glancing up the highway, where he could barely glimpse the rear of Ardyn’s car. Ardyn had took off with a squeal of his tires, and Prompto felt no desire to match his pace. The man might see that as a competition of some kind, and Prompto shuddered to think what Cid would do if the rental needed repairs…

_Probably stick his wrench where the sun don’t shine._

The trip to Lucis wasn’t overly long from Hammerhead, but the road was in a state of disrepair due to the lack of use. Weeds spouted from cracks, and the surface was no longer smooth like it had likely once been. Prompto’s car bumped along the broken, uneven highway, and he fiddled absent-mindedly with the radio, trying to ignore the way his body thudded as he drove along. A glance at the dashboard confirmed that the temperature was steadily dropping. Ardyn had told him to expect worsening weather conditions the closer they grew to Lucis. It might even snow…

Prompto hadn’t seen snow since they last visited Niflheim. He hated the frozen substance. He preferred the sun. Warm, adventurous days, heat beating down on his freckled skin…

That sort of climate suited him. Not the freezing cold.

_Has Lucis always been a frigid wasteland?_

Prompto thought with a shiver, turning the heating up full-blast. The dry scenery was gradually being replaced by icy earth, frost covering the dead grass and sparse trees. He wondered how Ardyn was still keeping the top down with his car…

_I should have worn my coat like he suggested. But oh no, I had to wave his recommendation away like a stroppy brat. I thought I’d look tough in front of Cindy, but she didn’t seem interested in the slightest…_

She truly was a lost cause. But Prompto didn’t like admitting defeat easily. He was stubborn. Like his adoptive father, in that regard. And if he were being completely honest with himself…

Well, he had a _teensy_ romantic streak. Despite his failure to fit in with regular people, he’d always relished the idea of someone loving him in a romantic manner. And him loving them in return. Who _didn’t_ want to find their true love and live happily ever after? It was only natural! People went their whole lives dreaming of finding such a love. Reading romance stories, daydreaming about fairy tales…

He was no exception. He wanted love, and an adventure. But _only_ a love he was interested in. He wouldn’t settle for anything but the absolute best. Prompto didn’t think he could stand anymore disappointment in the romance department. It had to be _perfect._

“I want to ride my chocobo all day~” Prompto sung to himself, as an advertisement for Coernix oil played on the radio. The jingle was always stuck in his head. Ardyn had sung it to him when he was a child, much to his past delight. Now he only angled the man a murderous look when he sung it, annoyed that it would be stuck in his head again.

_I hope it warms up the closer we get to Lucis._

* * *

 

The blockade to Lucis was crumbling and unattended, long abandoned by whoever was last stationed there. There were a few rusty cars scattered along the icy road, and the entire scene was rather eerie. There was not a single soul in sight, nor did Prompto glimpse any creatures, which was a little sad, considering how amazing a solitary creature would look in these sullen surroundings…

To summarise, there was absolutely _nothing_ preventing them from entering Lucis, making Prompto rather uneasy. How many explorers had ventured inside never to return? Was the place’s reputation enough to keep away any curious travellers? Wasn’t there at _least_ a guard to caution people against entering the abandoned city?

 _Evidently_ , Prompto realised, as Ardyn continued along at a slower pace. _Not._ The entrance wasn’t even barricaded, and had enough space for a regular sized car to fit through. It was practically child’s play, and Prompto felt embarrassed he’d been fretting so much about getting inside. He’d even been thinking about alternate routes…

_It’s almost like…something **wants** us to go inside. _

But surely that couldn’t be possible. Any inhabitants of Lucis had to be either dead or relocated. The power plant in Lestallum didn’t even supply power out here, which meant people would surely freeze from the cold temperature. There wasn’t any agriculture, either. What would people eat? Prompto had played enough zombie survival games to know people couldn’t last on rations forever. Eventually they’d have to venture outside of Lucis, especially considering the years that had passed since it had fallen into ruin.

Prompto was sure Lucis would have been incredibly beautiful before it had been abandoned. Even as it was now, empty and frozen, it had a sort of charm to it. There was something incredibly fascinating about seeing all of that modernity in disuse. Lucis had not been a poor place, absent of technology, it had been a thriving, bustling city. A city which…

 _I wonder where the palace is. Ardyn told me it was an ‘architectural masterpiece_ ‘, _so I doubt I’ll overlook it._

Prompto was expecting opulence, bright-lights, and dazzling décor. Something different than the cold steel of Niflheim. What he saw, however, did not live up to his grand expectations. It only made sense, he supposed. There was no one around to maintain the palace. Why should it glimmer ethereally in the snow when there was no one to behold its magnificence? It would be a waste of time and effort.

Still, the mammoth structure must have been imposing once upon a time. Now it was ugly and dull. Prompto was disappointed. Obviously Ardyn hadn’t seen the palace in quite some time…

The man parked before the tall, towering stairs, trampling a pile of stone debris in the process. The stairs appeared to be slick with wet, and were covered with dead foliage. Blackened vines wrapped around the palace, thorny and compressing…

_Woah. This palace is overdue for some pruning. The beast inside mustn’t care anything about gardening. If there **is** a beast. _

The shadows that eclipsed the palace left Prompto feeling a little nervous, but he wasn’t about to back off now. He may not have been the bravest guy around, but he wasn’t a _complete_ coward. Besides, Ardyn would tease him terribly.

Prompto pulled up behind him, and jumped from the car. Momentarily, he lost his footing on the icy ground, but managed to right himself before face-planting onto the road. He heard Ardyn chortle somewhere to his right, and shot the man the middle finger salute.

“Now, now, no need for such vulgarity.” Ardyn looks more at home here, with his red scarf and coat. He’s peering at Prompto with undisguised smugness. “Papa told you to pack your woollies.”

“Can you _not_ say the word woollies? I don’t even _own_ anything made of wool.”

“Perhaps the palace will be rife with warm fabrics.”

“Are you suggesting we loot Lucian antiquities?”

“Why of course not!” Ardyn denied in a rather offended manner. “I’m suggesting we pilfer anything of great value, and sell it for a good profit. I doubt the former inhabitants of the castle will require their finery anymore. Besides, I’m sure you’ll look _dashing_ in princely attire. It would suit your pretty blue eyes.”

Prompto deadpanned. “You are honestly the most infuriating man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Can you do me a favour and _not_ talk whilst we’re in the castle? I don’t want your annoying voice scaring off any beasts.”

“So you truly believe the tales?” Ardyn’s voice was richly amused. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always adored hearing my fairy stories.”

Prompto blushed. That _was_ true.

“Would you like to hear one more?”

Prompto blinked at the unexpected offer. “Is now really the right time?”

Ardyn smirked, wide and knowing. “Oh, I think now is the _perfect_ time.”

 

* * *

 

_Once upon a time, a prince lived in a grandiose castle. There was nothing the young lad could possibly wish for, surrounded as he was by his adoring servants and dutiful guards._

_Despite his good fortune and handsome looks, however, the prince was disenchanted with his lifestyle. Bored, lonely, and completely spoiled by his hapless staff. The young master’s mother had passed when he was an infant, and the recent loss of his loving father was a devastating blow for the boy._

_Laden with the new responsibility of ruling a steadily failing city, his clever chamberlain held secret peace talks with neighbouring Niflheim, trying to come to an accord in which both countries could end the devastating war, and cease the suffering of their people._

_Eventually, a deal was struck, and loath he was to barter with the king’s murderers, the chamberlain accepted the terms of their peace, without the prince’s consent._

_For you see, the late highness had given the chamberlain permission to act in the prince’s steed in diplomatic matters, as the prince was still young and immature. With a heavy heart, the chamberlain prepared to tell his prince of what had transpired, but before he could dismiss the representatives from Niflheim, they added one final condition to the deal. If their countries were to be united in peace, the prince would wed Princess Lunafreya of Tenebrae, a former hostage of the empire._

_Reluctantly, the chamberlain accepted. After all, the prince was childhood friends with the fair princess, perhaps it would be a fitting match._

_Alas, the prince was enraged with the chamberlain and his associates, deeming their actions as traitorous._

_However, despite his anger, there was nothing he could do. To abandon the deal would be to doom his citizens, so he grudgingly accepted his fate._

_A ball was planned in the heart of the palace to celebrate the signing of the deal. People of noble descent from all over Eos were invited to the auspicious occasion, and television and radio hosts alike commented on the new bargain with equal parts agreement and enthusiasm._

_The prince was prepared for the ball, dressed in his most charming finery, in the darkest colour of black, to represent his country. In the sea of white and pastel, he stood out considerably from the crowd, and maidens watched enviously as he reunited with his beautiful betrothed, sharing a slow, swaying dance that bordered on awkward._

_He met those from Niflheim with curt nods, blue eyes cool. Eager for the evening to end, the chamberlain rushed along the signing, ushering the emperor and Noctis along the luxurious halls._

_But before the signing could officially begin, the prince’s bodyguard halted him, grasping his arm and dragging him into an adjoining room._

_For you see, the observant man had noticed the dagger Prince Noctis had been concealing within his coat. The petulant prince had planned to **assassinate** the emperor! Enraged he was by the elderly man’s part in his father’s death! Such a selfish, petty plan brought about exasperation in the chamberlain and bodyguard both, but no amount of berating would stop the prince from enacting his plan. _

_Prince Noctis stormed from the room, but before he could join the emperor and his associates, a dark haired woman appeared, clothed in a shimmering black and gold dress. She had an ethereal feel about her, and kept her eyes closed, even when she spoke._

_She warned the prince not to be hasty, and to reconsider his decision. To kill the emperor would be an act of war, and would forsake his people. Even worse, it would put his betrothed in a dangerous position. If he truly loved Luna, she had said, in a calm, soothing tone, using the nickname the two shared together, he would act in a manner most befitting of the **True King.**_

**_“True King?”_ ** _He had snarled, overwhelmed with emotion. His eyes had stung with bitter tears. **“Screw you,** and your ‘True King!’ Where were the gods when my father was murdered? When he sacrificed himself to save the crystal?”_

_The woman had shaken her head sadly. “A true king should prove himself compassionate, and practice **mercy.** If you kill this man, what happens to your subjects? To the **emperor’s** subjects?”_

_“To hell with **anyone** from Niflheim! They can all burn in Ifrit’s flames for all I care!”_

_“Highness-“ The chamberlain had started, but the prince had gestured for him to be silent._

_“I see by the way you conduct yourself that you have no heart.” She had remarked softly. “You don’t even love Luna enough to sacrifice your pride. Do you love **anyone,** Prince Noctis?”_

_“Loves gets you nowhere. It’s a pointless emotion.”_

_The woman urged him, once more, to reconsider his stance. But the prince outright refused. When he shook his head, and scoffed most adamantly, her eyes slit open, displaying the purest of emeralds. “I seek to protect Lunafreya,” She’d said, in a firm tone. “And I act on behalf of the god’s. Prince Noctis, you have proven yourself unworthy of being the true king. Until you learn to rule for the good of them all, and to love thy enemy, you will be isolated in Lucis here, to assess your heart. The city will be evacuated, but some will remain anchored beside you, cursed to serve you, until you prove yourself worthy of serving **them.** You will remain unchanged by time, stuck in an icy wasteland, forgotten by your own people, until the crystal dims completely. When that time comes, you will be cursed to remain immortal and alone, until the next True King is born. Then you will fall by his sword.”_

_The prince’s eyes had widened at her lengthy speech, and he immediately sought to appease her. “Hey, wait a second, I don’t think that’s-“_

_But it was too late. The beautiful woman reached and touched the prince’s shoulder. He was struck down by a crippling feeling of cold, and the attractive castle gradually transformed into something nightmarish and grotesque. The chamberlain and bodyguard rushed to the prince’s side, ignoring the iciness sweeping their own bodies._

_Witness accounts of that night vary, and most who were there have passed on, leaving nothing but rumours and whispers. The prince however, lays in a state of despondence before the dimming crystal, waiting exhaustedly for someone to love, and whom will love him in return, to break the dreaded curse._

 

* * *

 

“Wow.” Prompto said flatly. He was currently sitting on the castle steps, warmed by a small fire Ardyn had somehow managed to get going. He’d been listening to the man’s tale carefully, and rolled his eyes at the conclusion. “That’s even more outlandish than the story you used to tell me about the immortal healer and the starscourge. I heard the inhabitant of this castle was a _beast_ , not a sulky prince. It would have been more realistic if the enchanted woman turned him _into_ a beast…”

“How many times must I tell you that the healer _was_ real? You inconsiderate sceptic.”

“Yeah, right. Real like the monsters you used to scare me with when I was an angst-ridden teen? So I’d get scared and come crawling into your room at like one in the morning?”

Ardyn smirked mischievously here. “You always _were_ a sensitive soul…”

Prompto rolled his eyes, and bit viciously into the marshmallow he’d been roasting. He’d purchased a bag at the Hammerhead garage, much to the distaste of Ardyn, who was always lecturing him about healthy eating. The man always said he wanted Prompto to have _‘an immortal man’s diet’._ Which, according to Ardyn, consisted of nothing but vegetables and roots, with the added addition of a lump of protein here and there. _Not_ the type of food Prompto enjoyed eating all of the time. “Better than being dryer than a shrivelled up ball-sack.” Prompto shot back crudely, and he winced when he was clipped over the head. “Not fair…” He whined pitifully, rubbing his skull.

“Respect your papa, my precious sunflower.”

“I’ll show **_you_** precious…” Prompto mumbled mutinously. “Let’s just go inside. Tell me if you see any prince’s ready to fall at my boots…”

“I doubt the prince would have the chance. You’re **_much_** too young for some Lucian brat.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I continue this, or not? I'm kind of on the fence about this. I'd like to continue, but only if anyone actually WANTS to read it. So please tell me what you think. No pressure though. 
> 
> PS: I know Ardyn is a weird choice for Prompto's 'papa' but I couldn't think of anyone else I could use. Plus, the character in the movie totally has a similar hat to Ardyn and it reminded me of him. As far as his character goes in this, you'll just have to see ;)
> 
> PPS: Obviously if I continue, I plan to have Gladnis as a side pairing. But I was wondering if I should add any pairings with lovely Luna? I was thinking maybe with an aged-up Iris, but we'll just have to see I suppose. 
> 
> I hope you're all having a good day/night wherever you are!


	2. It's a pity and a sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto braves the depths of the palace, and Noctis is made aware of the intrusion by his diligent shield and adviser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone reading!
> 
> I enjoyed writing the first chapter so much that I wrote up another one. ALSO, your comments really convinced me to continue. Hearing what you guys say is the best motivation to go on!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

* * *

 

“I half expect a candle stick to start spouting gibberish at me. What, with all your talk of enchantments.” Prompto jokes, as he pushes open the partly ajar doors to the castle. He’s not long clambered the frosty stairs with his father, and is trying to project a false sense of bravado. Because _seriously_ , this castle is-

A loud screeching was heard, and Prompto jumped, falling behind Ardyn with a small “Eep.”

_Creepy. This place is **majorly** creepy. Come on Prompto, don’t be a coward. _

His self-coaching was beginning to work, before he heard a phantom-like ghosting of footsteps.

_Rats. Just rats. This place must be crawling with them. I mean, it’s all…_

Prompto squinted in the darkness, and was shocked to see not a spot of dust. Everything seemed perfectly in place, as if the master or mistress of the castle had staff that adhered to a strict cleaning regimen. The silver was perfectly polished, the furniture well-assembled and neat, and the floor gleaming eerily in the sparse light. Suddenly, Prompto wished for a talking candle. At least then everything would be more visible, and he wouldn’t have the unnerving sensation of being watched…

“There, there.” Ardyn said in condescending comfort, patting his head like he was a frail child. “A little out of our comfort zone, aren’t we? You never did like the dark.”

No. He never had. It reminded him of times before Ardyn had taken him in. He may have been young upon his adoption, but he’d always had a near super-human memory. He assumed it was part of his true… _parentage._

“I am fine.” Prompto forced firmness into his voice, and stepped around the relaxed (unfairly, might Prompto add!) man.

Ardyn seemed completely at home in the abandoned palace, almost as if he’d been there before. He even knew where to place his coat, which he shrugged out of without a care in the world. He didn’t remove his hat though. The man was too fond of it. Prompto often thought it was his most prized possession. Besides his flask, that was. The flask he was currently tucking into the pocket of his slacks. “Ah, what a bleak castle. I find the interior rather unprepossessing, as a matter of fact.”

Prompto had to agree. His eyes were adjusting to the dim lighting, and the castle, well…

_It’s **nothing** like how I’d expect a castle to look. Ardyn’s fairy tales always made castles sound grand and dazzling. This place is cold and unfeeling. If it wasn’t for all the black and the lack of steel, I’d think this was a Niflheim building. _

It wasn’t a flattering first impression. Prompto _hated_ Niflheim.

_Even the nefarious castles in my video games were cooler than this. I guess it was dumb of me to expect anything different. Lucis **is** an abandoned waste-hole, after all. But if it’s abandoned, why is it so meticulously clean? Surely there isn’t someone still living here. Or **something** …_

It was an unsettling thought. If there was one thing Prompto hated more than dark cold spaces, it was dark cold spaces inhabited by scary daemons just waiting to rip his scrawny body apart. For the first time since their journey had begun, Prompto felt glad for Ardyn’s presence. The man, despite his oiliness, seemed to embody strength, and Prompto had always felt incredibly safe and protected around him. Like a little kid.

A little kid with no fighting experience and scarce survival skills.

_Shit. He was right. Maybe I should buy a gun from one of the hunters. I’d certainly feel safer with one, even if I’m a terrible shot._

Prompto had never shot a firearm before, but he assumed he’d be poor at it. He was with nearly everything else. The only thing he’d ever really taken to with ease was photography. Everything else came with continued practice. He was just that kind of _average_ guy.

Nope. There was nothing special about him. Just a regular ole’ average guy with no real talent or purpose in life. It sounded harsh, but Prompto knew it was the truth. No matter what Ardyn told him.

(“Oh lad,”) He’d sigh, whenever Prompto made a self-deprecating remark. (“Insecurity does not become you.”)

So he was insecure. Sue him! How could he not be? He was a failed MT! A failed MT that people regularly shunned! How could he be truly confident when he’d suffered through so much rejection and scorn? If it wasn’t for Ardyn, he would have given up long ago. His papa had given him a reason to live. _Hope_ , no matter how futile.

So despite Prompto’s earlier annoyance with the man, he felt a sudden surge of appreciation for him. He may have been a morally-ambiguous enigma, but he was a _present_ morally-ambiguous enigma. He was always lurking somewhere, waiting for Prompto to come running to him like the hapless fool he was.

“Hey Papa,” Prompto whispered. For some reason, he felt like someone was listening keenly. It was probably just his paranoia. “Uh, thanks for coming with me.” He gave a wry smile, and briefly pressed a hand to Ardyn’s forearm. “Honestly, I would have run screaming like a little girl from the castle by now if you weren’t here.”

Ardyn nodded in acknowledgement, but his eyes remained trained on something in the distance, far up the sweeping staircase that would lead them past the castle’s unguarded entrance. They were narrowed in calculation, and his reply was curter than usual. “ ** _I am_** your papa, Prompto. If I couldn’t protect the one I cared about, what kind of man would I be?”

“Okaaaay…” Prompto drew out, a little confused. Ardyn said many odd things, but his last sentence didn’t even seem directed at him. Was his papa going senile? “Great talk! Now let’s get moving! Photos need a snapping!”

His sloppy phrasing seemed to break Ardyn from his concentration, and the man raised his eyebrows in thinly veiled distaste. “Did I not treat you proper English, young man?”

“ _Ugh,_ can you stop being so embarrassing? I’m glad no one’s around to see this…”

Ardyn gave a humourless chortle, and Prompto shivered.

And it wasn’t from the cold. Ardyn had packed an extra coat, which was now draped over Prompto’s shoulders generously. The way his papa had laughed…

It was like he knew something that Prompto didn’t. Something Prompto _really w_ ouldn’t like.

But Prompto would proceed. Because despite being an average kind of guy, he was also a tenacious, stubborn man who would accomplish what he came for. One way or another. Ardyn, or no Ardyn.

Because he needed to stop selling himself short.

_Easier said than done._

* * *

 

“What the hell is Ardyn Izunia doing here, Iggy!?” Gladiolus hissed in anger, his tanned face creased in fury. The scars on his face stood out starkly with that expression, and he appeared truly frightful.

It was a shame Ignis was used to this face. He’d seen it pull countless expressions over the years, and this infuriated one was one of Gladiolus’s most common.

He sighed, and pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. They were a little dusty, in dire need of cleaning after his earlier attack on Noctis’s West Wing. The prince was always in such a foul mood when Ignis ventured inside his personal domain. He only had the chance to clean it when the prince was preoccupied with something else. Even then, Noctis always griped about Ignis’s intrusion for hours afterwards. Usually over a painstakingly prepared meal Ignis had himself made for the spoiled man. His favourite, of course, to better cool his hot tongue. “I’m sure I don’t know, Gladio.” He replied calmly. “If I did, I would certainly impart the reasoning and details to you immediately. As I do not, however, have a bloody clue, I will implore you to calm down before acting rashly.”

“Calm down?” Gladiolus repeated, enraged. “That bastard-“

“Before you act rashly do remember the guest with him.” Ignis interjected shortly. His eyes were trained on the slim blond that was currently accompanying the man. From their vantage point at the top of the stairs (concealed partially by a collapsed statue Noctis had shattered in one of his fits of anger) they could see the scene below well. After years of skulking in the darkness, their eyes had adapted.

“Probably some imperial bastard-“ Gladiolus cut himself off suddenly, and grunted, no doubt recalling the words Gentiana had spoken all those years ago. Being prejudiced would be counterproductive to their efforts of breaking the curse they were all under. Over the years, Noctis had been steadily growing resigned to his fate, and as the crystal grew fainter every day…

They hadn’t the luxury of being picky.

_Anyone_ would do. Even if it was a common blond boy who didn’t look like he could lift a sword, let alone wield one with enough finesse to defend himself. Even Lady Lunafreya hadn’t looked so pitifully weak, and she was the gentlest soul the pair had ever met.

“He appears clueless.” Ignis noted, as the boy took the initiative to take a few steps forward, prodding at a candlestick Ignis had freshly polished that morning. Electricity wouldn’t function in the castle, so they had to rely on more archaic methods of lighting. Ignis hypothesized this was part of the curse, as no amount of tinkering by Cor or Gladio was capable of remedying the issue. “Oh for goodness sake,” Ignis murmured, when he saw the flurries of snow fluttering through the still opened doors. “I had that floor scrubbed just last week. How abhorrently rude.”

“It’s not like they know we live here.” Gladiolus reminded. “Just have Iris clean it again. Kid’s been so bored lately it’s been driving me mad.”

Ignis shushed him suddenly, darting completely behind the statue. The blond boy had started climbing the stairs, his boots thudding loudly in the solemn silence of the foyer. He gestured for Gladiolus to do the same, and the man reluctantly trod behind him, a broad palm ghosting over the book he’d previously been reading, before they’d been made aware of the disturbance in the castle by Aranea.

Technically, the woman was capable of observing their new guests, but as chamberlain to the king, Ignis had seen fit to undertake the duty himself. He saw to most of the household matters, after all, and greeting visitors was part of his role. Although the frequency of visitors had decreased rapidly over the passing years…

“This place is so depressing!” They heard the blond boy remark to Ardyn, practically _skipping_ up the stairs now he had mustered some confidence. His voice was light, but there was an unmistakeable tinge of nervousness lingering in his tone. It was obvious to the two men that he was unnerved by the castle. “I mean, why would _anyone_ want to live in such a sombre castle? It’s no wonder the prince from your story was such an asshole!”

Gladiolus outright growled at this, protective of his liege, and the boy slammed to a halt.

“Hey, Ardyn?” The boy addressed unsurely. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” The man responded, feigning ignorance. His flamboyant voice was enough to illicit irritation in both of the king’s servants. Despite Ignis’s call for peace, he felt no fondness for Ardyn Izunia. The man had always been a hassle to deal with, and his smug attitude was positively irksome.

“A growl.” The boy told, halting in his determined procession. “I thought I heard a growl.”

Ardyn chortled at this, his sedate pace not changing as he pottered up the stairs. “I thought you’d be delighted to hear a growl. Aren’t you here to photograph a beast, Prompto?”

_Prompto,_ Ignis and Gladiolus mouthed in tandem. Although their eyes had become used to the strain of darkness, their ears still remained much the same.

Even in the silence, they hadn’t been able to hear the newly identified _Prompto’s_ hushed discussion with Ardyn upon their entrance to the castle. The foyer was just too large, and the echo had been too faint to make out most of what they’d spoken of. From what Ignis had gathered from their body language though, this _Prompto_ was rather unaccustomed to trespassing. He had yet to converse with the boy, but his instincts told him not to take the blond as a genuine threat. He seemed completely oblivious.

“Well yeah.” Prompto agreed, waiting for Ardyn to catch up before setting off at a more sedate pace. “But I wouldn’t think a beast would be hanging around in a foyer. Maybe in a courtyard, or something…”

Ardyn hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that the castle has marvellous gardens, filled with all varieties of flora. The most renowned is the Lucian rose, a strangely fragrant flower with black thorns decorating the stem. Sharp enough to pierce the skin considerably.”

“I never liked roses.” Prompto admitted, rather offending Ignis, who had Iris tend to the garden each morning with the utmost delicacy. “They’re overrated.”

Ardyn sounded pleased by this. “I’m inclined to agree. Sunflowers suit you _much_ better.”

It was a shame, Ignis noted, that sunflowers no longer bloomed in the garden. It was a miracle anything did, what with the horrible cold and frost. He could only be grateful some of his vegetables and spices managed to sprout. How he missed the sun…

“What should we do?” Gladiolus muttered quietly to Ignis, as the pair were heard growing closer to the top of the stairs. The arch to the structure and broken statue had kept them concealed until now, but once the two males rounded the bend…

“Noct ought to be informed of our impromptu guests.” Ignis whispered decisively. “Perhaps the excitement will rouse him from bed. He’s been sleeping all day.”

Gladiolus appeared hesitant to leave. “Is it wise to let them be? Who knows what bullshit Ardyn could be trying to pull….”

“I doubt he’ll try anything with that Prompto with him. The boy seems clueless. I’m betting Ardyn would prefer to keep him that way.” Ignis re-sheathed his daggers, and waited pointedly for Gladiolus to stow his great sword. “If you’re that concerned,” He went on, when Gladiolus clutched his weapon stubbornly. “We can have Cor keep an eye on them whilst we rouse his majesty. Cor will know what to do if Ardyn behaves threateningly.”

Somewhat appeased by this reassurance, Gladiolus put away his blade. He may have been Noctis’s shield, but Cor was still the head of the Lucian guard. It was a prestigious title the competent man had maintained for all of these long years. And even if the man wanted to leave (which he didn’t, Cor had unwavering loyalty to the Lucian bloodline) the curse wouldn’t allow it. It restricted them from venturing farther than the castle’s grounds. One step outside of the invisible boundary led to crippling pain, impossible to overcome. Even attempting to move further led to instant illness. Gladiolus had been struck with a weeklong fever the last time he’d tried…

Ignis had been quite exasperated with the larger man. Gladiolus had wanted to scavenge the abandoned territory in search of curatives, as their stock was rapidly dwindling. Ignis feared what would occur when they finally ran out.

They had already used all of their phoenix downs. Remaining unchanging did not make them immune from sickness, and Lunafreya in particular was sensitive to the frigid weather. It came from being raised in delicate Tenebrae. He often pondered over Gentiana’s reasoning for cursing the beautiful oracle amongst them all…

Despite her poor fortune, however, Luna never held a grudge against Noctis. She only sought to help him. Ignis thought it such a pity that the prince couldn’t love her. She would make a fine queen, kindly and merciful.

_This Prompto…could he really stand alongside Noctis?_

Ignis was under no illusion. There was no time for silly pretences and denials. There’d been enough of that over the years. Noctis _had_ to fall in love, _and_ earn love in return.

And with how scarce visitations had been over the years, the prince couldn’t afford to be picky. The crystal could die any day now, and they couldn’t leave anything to chance. Who knew when the next curious person would come along?

This Prompto…he _needed_ to be the one.

And if Ignis got his way, there would be no ifs, ands or buts about it. For the sake of every cursed inhabitant in this blasted castle, and for the future of Lucis itself, Noctis _would_ win the affection of this clueless little blond. He would make **_certain_** his liege did not fail.

For now though, he needed to wake the lazy prince from his snoozing. Noctis led such a slothful lifestyle, and he needed to be fully awake and presentable for when he met Prompto. A good first impression was _essential._ Crucial, even.

_It seems his majesty will need to brush up on his manners._

“Let us go, Gladiolus. His majesty is in need of our assistance.”

“Should I fetch some cold water? It’ll wake him up quicker.”

“I think that would be beneficial.”

 

* * *

 

“Damn. No reception.” Prompto griped, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’d wanted to play a quick round of King’s Knight, but the game needed updating.

He was currently sitting on an ancient armchair, and munching on one of the snacks Ardyn had brought especially for the trip. (“Homemade!”) The man had remarked, ignoring Prompto’s fleeting grimace. (“Filled with healthy ingredients to keep you strong!”)

_What kind of sadist would mix birdbeast egg with hulldagh nutmet? And what’s with all the weird roots? Is that **grass?**_

Prompto had already tried sneaking some marshmallows, but Ardyn had caught him, and tossed the packet into the fireplace, which the man had _somehow_ managed to get smouldering near-instantly. He’d tutted about the unhealthy sugar, but Prompto hadn’t neglected to notice that the man hadn’t touched his own ‘healthy’ concoction.

Ardyn had insisted they rest for now. They’d been exploring the castle for the better part of six hours. The place was _huge,_ and the abandoned technology in many of the rooms gave Prompto an apocalyptic feel. The palace was a mixture of modernity and tradition, and its clean state was unnerving to witness. In all of his searching (and photograph snapping) Prompto had yet to see a single sign of squalor. It didn’t make sense.

But neither did his self-imposed mission of finding a beast, so Prompto was fine to ignore the mystery for now. He needed to focus on his job…

“This place is humungous.” Prompto sighed, leaning back into the plush chair tiredly. Despite their hours of searching, there was still a great deal of the castle to explore. It seemed he’d drastically underestimated how ridiculously large palaces could be.

_Naïve Prompto, as always._

He huffed when Ardyn tossed a blanket over his body. It was a soft fabric he couldn’t identify, but warm and cosy enough to make his feeling of weariness intensify. He would have recommend returning to the cars (and their heating) for the night, if he wasn’t so hopelessly lost. Despite his embarrassment about having his papa accompany him, he had to inwardly admit this trip would have been a disaster without him.

_I just thought it was **so** simple. Infiltrate an abandoned castle, find the beast, snap a photo and POOF mission complete. _

Now he and Ardyn would likely be resting inside for the night. Luckily at least one of them had been prepared for such an obvious eventuality.

“Now, now, no need to fret.” Ardyn sat on an adjoining chair, smirking at his adoptive son knowingly. “This _was_ your first little adventure, after all. We learn from our mistakes, don’t we?”

Prompto nodded sourly at the man’s expectant expression. “Yeah.”

“I won’t be disappointed if you want to leave on the morrow. I’m sure the photos you’ve captured today will be more than enough to satisfy your benefactor.”

_That **is** true. Vyv will be ecstatic I captured **any** part of Lucis. He won’t be disappointed about me not capturing a fabled beast on camera. _

But…

**_No_ ** _. I won’t give up! Not until I’ve scoured every inch of this damned castle! Beast or no beast, I’m not going back on my word. I won’t be some wishy washy bastard who can’t keep a promise. Even if the promise was only to myself!_

Ardyn watched as Prompto’s thoughts flickered across his face. The boy had always been an open book with his emotions. Easy to read when he had his guard down. Naturally, he didn’t like the conclusion Prompto was reaching. He wanted the lad _gone_ from the castle. Before he came across what was _really_ lurking in its depths. Ardyn’s assumption that the inhabitants would hide away until they worked out a strategy had been proven correct, so if he could convince Prompto to leave early tomorrow morning…

“No.” Prompto denied firmly. “I’m not leaving until I search the whole castle. I’m not wasting this opportunity. You can leave if you want.”

Alas, Prompto’s curiosity had not been satisfied. Ardyn should have known better. The boy was hard-headed when it came to matters like this, always desperate to prove himself…

It seemed all Ardyn could do was protect the foolish child when the time came.

He’d meant what he’d said earlier to Prompto.

**_No_** Lucian brat was taking away the only _remotely_ good thing that had happened to him since he’d been betrayed by Izunia. It may have been boredom that first compelled him to raise Prompto, but he’d grown fond of him over the years.

 

* * *

 

“ ** _No_** Imperial bastard is going to stay in my castle, curse or no curse!” Noctis snapped, upending the table Ignis had served his dinner on.

The chamberlain had been trying for hours to talk sense into the prince, to no avail. He’d taken a break to prepare the prince’s supper, and now it was all over the floor.

_It was one his favourites, as well. Rice is so sparse._

“Why you little-“ Gladiolus advanced forward in anger, but Ignis raised a mediating hand, preventing him from moving closer to the panting prince.

_We need to be patient. This is the first time an imperial has stepped foot inside this palace since the curse. And to be accompanied with Ardyn Izunia as well…_

Ignis understood why Noctis was so upset. Nevertheless… “You are behaving in a most unbecoming manner, highness.” He scolded, leaning down to collect the golden bowl and cutlery. “A man of your standing should not be throwing food like a child having a tantrum. Imagine what your father would say.”

Noctis appeared ashamed, but maintained his fury. “I wouldn’t know, since _Imperials_ killed him!” He paused, trying to reign in his temper. He closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry about the food.” He apologised sincerely, and Gladiolus gave an approving ‘humph’. “If you want, I’ll scoop it back into the bowl.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Ignis shook his head in disgust.

“Why not? The floor is clean enough to eat off, anyway.” Noctis remarked, with a miniscule amount of humour. He opened his eyes, and there was helplessness swimming in their azure depths. “I know you’re trying to help, Ignis. But I can’t fall in love with an imperial. I just _can’t_.” He collapsed onto his hastily made bed. He was taking supper in his room, so as not to alarm the other staff, who had been shocked about the origin of their new visitors. The prince massaged his throbbing temples, and made to recline back onto one of his many pillows, before catching himself. Sleeping was his main outlet for stress these days. “It’s impossible.”

Ignis didn’t know how to respond. He emphasised so heavily with the prince, who’d he’d essentially been guiding since his own teen years.

Gladiolus, however, could be more blatant. “Stop moping, princess.” He crossed his muscled arms over his chest, eyes narrowed at the sulking male. “Don’t you remember what Gentiana said all those years ago?” When he paused, it was clear he was expecting a verbal answer.

Noctis nodded his head stiffly. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Then I don’t need to remind you of what you have to do to break the curse. Perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to love the others who have come here is because they weren’t the ones _intended_ for you. I’m not completely sure about this blond kid’s heritage, but I’m ready to assume he _used_ to live in The Empire. I doubt he was raised there his whole life, because he acts nothing like those fucking Niffs.”

Noctis visibly relaxed at Gladiolus’s shared disdain for ‘Niffs’, and stood up once more. “I want to believe you.” He admitted easily, used to confiding in his friends. “But he’s accompanied by _Ardyn._ That piece of trash is bad news.”

“Yet he had nothing to do with the curse.” Ignis reminded. Saying something remotely positive about Ardyn Izunia gave him a bad taste in his mouth, but it was necessary to get through to Noctis. “He didn’t even attend the ball that night. Nor have we seen him since. Rather odd, considering his penchant for meddling.”

“He’s probably been out there destroying the world.” Noctis said sarcastically, but upon Ignis’s piercing stare, he threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Okay! You’re right! He hasn’t been harassing us like we first assumed he would! But what’s his relationship to this Prompto guy? And why is he here?”

“From what I gathered from listening to their conversation-“

“You mean _eavesdropping_.” Noctis corrected.

“-This Prompto is here to take photographs of a beast.” Ignis concluded, ignoring Noctis’s interruption.

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Ah, _the beast_ story. How many morons have come here to slay some make-believe beast? He’s probably one of those glory seeking idiots.”

Gladiolus snorted. “That scrawny kid couldn’t slay a dying chocobo, let alone a great beast. You should have seen him hiding behind Ardyn. He’s a total wuss.”

“We should not ridicule those who are sensitive.”

The dulcet voice caused the three males to straighten, and they turned to the door, where Lunafreya Nox Flueret had managed to slip through smoothly. She was dressed in a beautiful ivory dress, and her eyes swam with sereneness, despite her situation.

“Luna.” Noctis greeted, blushing as the woman observed the mess of food on the floor with a slow blink. “I…didn’t know Ignis or Gladio invited you.” He shot the two men accusatory looks, but the pair shrugged in tandem.

“They didn’t.” Luna said, floating gracefully into the room. “I hope my intrusion does not perturb you.”

“N-not at all.” Noctis replied awkwardly. Despite the years that had gone by, he still behaved like an awkward pre-teen around the oracle. And his apparent guilt didn’t exactly help matters. How he _wished_ he could have loved her….

But she was worthy of so much more than a brooding prince. He didn’t deserve her, not after what he’d done. He would regret it for the rest of his life.

“I was overjoyed to hear of the guests in the palace.” She smiled, sitting down on the empty bed. “It’s been so long since any have ventured inside. It fills me with joy to know we are not completely forgotten.” She reached for the stiffened prince, and grasped his hand gently. “I pray you find happiness in this one, Noctis. I saw him earlier when he investigated the Eastern parlour. He is a ray of sunshine on our grey days.”

Noctis squeezed her hand harder, eyes widened in concern. “Luna, you know Ardyn is with him, right? You shouldn’t go near him-“

Luna shook her head, and clasped her other hand over his, carefully removing it. “I was not seen. Though I know that Ardyn is not here to hurt me. The golden haired boy addressed him as his father. It seems Ardyn has found love in his new son.”

Noctis scoffed, unable to help himself from expressing his disdain. “Ardyn cannot _love_ -“

Luna raised abruptly from her elegant sitting position, peering downwards at the slightly shorter male. “ _Anyone_ can love.” She said, with unyielding benevolence. She caught his eye deliberately, before repeating herself. _“Anyone.”_ Then, she turned away, and Noctis was left floundering. “I sense he is a compassionate soul.” She addressed the three males as a whole. “We cannot chain him as a captive, but I urge you to find some merciful way to keep him here. I _know_ he is the one. The one we’ve been waiting for.”

“That _is_ the dilemma.” Ignis acknowledged. “The boy will never love Noct so long as he is being kept against his will."

“Hey, wait, I haven’t agreed to anything yet!”

“I will see to his living arrangements. We can’t expect him to stay in the dungeons, can we?” Before waiting for a response, Luna was gone, disappearing from the cavernous room as quickly as she’d come. All that remained of her presence was the smell of a particular perfume, one Noctis thought didn’t suit her very well…

Gladiolus chortled in amusement. “Well…” He drawled, as Noctis sent him a venomous look. “The lady has spoken. _Gentle and sweet_ Prompto is staying. You better start acting more chivalrous, Prince Charmless. Daddy Ardyn won’t let you anywhere near his son if you act like a moody brat.”

Noctis shuddered. “ ** _Never_** say ‘Daddy Ardyn’ again. It’s just _wrong_.”

“Daddy Ardyn,” Ignis began, smirking slightly as Noctis gave another groan of disgust. “May not let us near Prompto _regardless._ We need to be prepared to strike some kind of bargain.”

“You think Ardyn will just hand him over?” Gladiolus was doubtful.

“No. He doesn’t seem the sort to relinquish his son without a fight. We need to appeal to Prompto directly. Convince him to stay of his own free will…”

“Why not just imprison him and wait?” Noctis suggested, bored. “He’ll get over it eventually, right?”

“You really have no clue about romantic relationships.” Gladiolus shook his head in disbelief. “Stockholm Syndrome is no way to cultivate _love_ , Noct.”

Noctis smirked, and mirrored Gladiolus’s crossed-armed stance. “And I suppose _you’re_ the expert.”

“Well, who out of us is in a loving relationship? And who’s the virgin?”

Noctis blushed furiously, and turned away with a scowl. “Shut up!”

“That’s _quite_ enough.” Ignis appeared a little flustered himself, cheeks pink. “This is no time for bantering. We have work to do. Gladio, I want you to inform the household of our plans, and end any squabbles that arise. Noct, clean this mess up and find your smartest finery.”

“And what do _you_ intend to do?” Noctis questioned, obediently soaking a cloth in the nearby basin.

“I,” Ignis said, with the utmost dignity. “Have a plan to concoct. And a menu to prepare. Only the most delicious meals will be served for our new guest.”

“Good luck making our limited supplies ‘delicious’ every night, Iggy.”

“I wouldn’t concern yourself, Noct. I have been maintaining a special pantry filled with scrumptious ingredients for when this time care. Perfectly preserved.”

“Of course you have. Why am I not surprised?”

“Iggy’s competence goes beyond human standards.”

“You flatter me, Gladio.”

“Anything for you, Iggster.”

“Ew. Can you two leave already?”

“You’ll understand when you grow up one day, Noct.”

“ _What did I say_ about the bantering?”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys must be eager to read Noctis meeting Prompto, but if I write another chapter, they will DEFINITELY be meeting in the next one :)
> 
> I was glad to read that some of you approved of Papa Ardyn, as I was kinda nervous about my choice. It makes me relieved to know you liked my selection! I also think if I pair anyone with Luna, it will be Aranea like one of you guys suggested. 
> 
> Also, I hope you liked some of the low key Gladnis in this chapter ;)
> 
> THANK YOU for your Kudos and comments, and (please) tell me what you thought about this chapter as well, if you would like. 
> 
> I hope you are having a good day/night, wherever you are!


	3. Here's where he meets Prince Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto finds himself faced with a difficult dilemma, and is acquainted with Prince Noctis. Who, much to his surprise, is far less beastly than originally anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks for all of your encouragement, it pushed me to write another chapter! I hope you enjoy it. I had fun writing it, at least...

 

* * *

 

 

When Prompto awoke the next morning, his limbs ached from being confined to the armchair. He’d recommended finding a bedchamber to sleep in, but Ardyn had flatly denied him, saying they should rest near the fire to keep warm. It was reasonable, as in the long-term Prompto would prefer a little stiffness over hypothermia, but he had a feeling there was some _other_ reason Ardyn wasn’t telling him…

As usual. That man had so many ulterior motives it was impossible to keep track.

At the moment though, Prompto was focusing on the pressing need in his bladder. He _really_ needed to pee. He hadn’t gone since before they’d entered the castle (and he swore the cold had nearly made _it_ fall off) and he was eager to find a toilet. Even though the castle was abandoned, he still felt it was fundamentally wrong to piss in some corner like an animal. And since there were no chamber pots in sight…

Prompto opened his eyes, and saw the fire was still going strong, roaring in the hearth. There were no embers in sight.

_Ardyn must have been stoking it all night._

The man himself, though, appeared absent. Prompto swivelled his head, and couldn’t spot him (or his ugly hobo clothes) anywhere.

_Maybe he needed the bathroom as well? Or he’s wandered off…_

Either way, Prompto’s bladder felt uncomfortable. He slowly stood from his chair, stretching his sore limbs. As he did so, the bottom of his shirt lifted, displaying his stomach. He jolted in surprise when he heard what sounded like a _whistle,_ and hurriedly yanked it down. He looked around with wild eyes, and turned pale when he heard a hiss of _“Aranea.”_

_This is…_

He pinched himself, and strained his ears. The castle was silent, asides from the crackling of the fire.

_I…must still be half-asleep. Yeah, that’s it._

Slapping himself softly on the cheeks, Prompto wrapped the blanket around his torso, not ready to abandon its toasty warmth yet. He slipped back into his removed boots, and slowly began trudging away from the parlour room he and Ardyn had been using as a makeshift bedchamber.

The hall was long and looming, and he increased his pace as he went, until he was loping into a run. The castle was even more unsettling without Ardyn’s humming. He was hoping to see the man along the hall, admiring one of the many paintings, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, he managed to come across a small lavatory. He knocked on the door, wondering if Ardyn was inside, and was disappointed when he turned the knob and found it empty. Like the rest of the castle, it was impeccably clean. There was a small toilet, a mirror, and a basin. Clearly this lavatory was meant for guests.

_Even everything in the bathroom is black._

Prompto thought, as he half-heartedly flicked a power switch. Expectedly, the room stayed dark.

_Was Lucis just this horribly dark place? No colour at all?_

He unzipped his pants, and promptly relieved himself. Once done, he clicked on the flusher, and almost yelped in shock when the toilet functioned efficiently.

_Why is the plumbing functioning but not the electricity? This is so weird._

Prompto was even more confused to find that the tap on the basin spouted water. He washed his hands slowly, and splashed his face in the hopes of losing his drowsy state. Waking up properly was hard when everything in the castle remained dimly lit.

_Ardyn should be back by now. I bet he’s making some horrible breakfast…_

Praying that Ardyn wasn’t trying to cook meat again (he either charred it until it was black, or undercooked it until it was raw, there was no middle ground with that guy) he opened the door, and stepped forward.

Only to impact with another form, and fall backwards.

“Oh!” He gasped in surprise. “Sorry Papa, I didn’t know you were-“ Prompto trailed off as he looked up, eyebrows furrowing as he slowly made out the features of the figure’s face. They definitely weren’t the smarmily handsome ones of his papa. In fact, they weren’t male at all.

Gradually, a flickering candle was raised, until he could see this new person clearly. She had to be a few years younger than him, with cropped brown hair, and smiling eyes. “Hi!” She chirped, even as Prompto gaped helplessly. “My name is Iris, I’m the gardener of this castle! It’s nice to meet you.”

Although this Iris was far from imposing, Prompto still found himself terrified.

_How is it possible? There **can’t** be people living here. Unless this is a…_

“GHOST!” Prompto shrieked in a mortifyingly high-pitch, squeezing past the girl with flailing arms. In the process, the blanket he’d had draped around his shoulders fell to the ground, causing his feet to become tangled. He floundered for a moment, nearly tripping, before freeing himself.  “PAPA! GHOST! OH MY GOD! SHIT! FUCK! PAPA!” His screeches, however, were met with no reply, asides from the newly introduced Iris, who was following him with a placating expression. If he had his camera, he could at least take a quick shot before sprinting away…

_What a wasted opportunity._

“Please! Wait!” The petite girl was rather quick, and she was matching his stride. “I’m not a ghost! I swear! I’m a real person! Just touch me and you’ll see!”

Prompto paused, and the female near barrelled into him. His eyes widened impossibly further. “SUCCUBUS!” He now screamed, backing away in fear. “NO! I DON’T WANNA HAVE SEX WITH YOU! I WANT MY FIRST TIME TO BE SPECIAL!”

“Gross, no!” Iris crinkled her nose, and Prompto would have been offended if he wasn’t so frightened. “You’re not mine to bed-“

“SOMEONE IS GONNA RAPE ME? YOU’VE MADE A MISTAKE! I’M LIKE… _TOTALLY_ IMPOTENT! THERE IS NO PLEASURE TO BE HAD WITH THIS DUDE!” Prompto laughed in a wheeze, near-hysterical. His back bumped into the wall behind him, and the edge of a painting dug into his left shoulder. Knowing he was trapped, he used his last resort, putting his fingers into some poor semblance of a cross. “GET BACK, DAEMON!”

Iris sighed, and brushed down her crinkled skirt. “And they said this would be easy.” She grumbled to herself. “’You’re the least physically imposing, Iris’. Yeah _right._ ”

Prompto paused, blinking. “Did you say others?” He asked, reverting back to his normal voice. “Are there others here with you?”

Iris appeared relieved he was no longer screaming. “Yes. There is. And none of us are daemons, just so you know. We’re regular humans.”

Prompto squinted suspiciously. “How could regular humans survive in this wasteland?”

“ _Some_ of us are self-reliant, and don’t need _papa_ to come to our rescue.” Iris said sniffily.

Prompto flushed a deep red in embarrassment, remembering his pitiful calls for his father. “Ah, sorry about that.” He apologised sheepishly, forcing himself away from the wall. His hammering heart was beginning to calm, and his reasoning was finally kicking in. If this girl were some kind of supernatural being with sinister intentions, she would have killed him by now. Or tortured him. Slowly. “When I get surprised I act a little…”

“Imbecilic?” Iris provided, still clearly put-out.

“Crazy.” Prompto finished, and he sent her an apologetic grin. “I’m sorry if I startled you, Iris. I didn’t think anyone lived here. If I knew, I certainly wouldn’t have intruded.” He bowed his head. “Please forgive my horrible rudeness.”

There was a long pause, before Iris spoke, her voice perky once more. “It is okay, Prompto. I shouldn’t have been lurking around like that. It startled you. I forget how this castle must seem to outsiders. I’ve been here so long…” She trailed off, and then cleared her throat. “So, are you hungry? Ignis has spent all morning cooking up a feast…”

Prompto’s brain was functioning at a sluggish pace.

_How did she know my name? Ignis? Who’s **Ignis**? _

And, most importantly…

_Where’s Papa? Has he met one of these people as well?_

“Oh, of course,” Iris suddenly clapped her hand to her forehead. “You don’t know who Ignis is. He’s the chamberlain, but he also doubles as Noct’s personal chef _and_ the head of household. He’s a real bossy guy, but my brother loves him.”

“Brother?” Prompto repeated, and Iris scowled.

“What? You got a problem with my brother loving a guy?” She demanded, face adopting a frightful mask.

“No!” Prompto laughed outright, waving a hand in dismissal. “Not at all!”

Iris relaxed, but still eyeballed him with suspicion.

“I was just surprised by how many people are living here. There was no sign of life when papa and I came here yesterday.”

_Does that mean we’ve been being **watched?** She knew my name! This is seriously creepy. Screw my pride, once I find Papa, we’re out of here. _

“I see.” Iris did a small spin away from him, and began heading up the hallway. For lack of anything else to do, Prompto followed. “Well, there’s certainly more of us than you’d first expect. We were just keeping our distance until we figured out what sort of…hospitality you required.” Her hesitation before using the word ‘hospitality’ did nothing to calm Prompto’s nerves.

_In other words, they were deciding whether to attack us or not. **Fan-fucking-tastic.** _

“Well, I am glad for it.” Prompto said carefully, turning to the left as they came to a fork. Iris practically skipped ahead. “But I think Papa and I should be leaving now. We have people waiting for us to get back home.”

_And by ‘people’ I mean irritable villagers and by ‘home’ I mean a caravan._

“You can stay for breakfast though.” Iris asserted cheerfully. “It would be a waste otherwise.”

_Is she going to poison us? She may seem friendly, but…_

“Have you seen my papa?” Prompto questioned furtively. “He wasn’t around when I woke up. I thought he would be back by now…”

“I’m sure he’s around somewhere.” Iris said, and as they rounded another corner, Prompto got a whiff of a truly mouth-watering scent. It wafted through the air enticingly, and Prompto heard his stomach give an approving grumble. Iris giggled, but refrained from mentioning it. “Ignis is a fantastic cook. Sometimes I think he missed his true calling.”

“Well if his food is as good as it smells, I agree.” Prompto said, rubbing his flat stomach. He’d barely eaten last night, throwing the remainder of Ardyn’s disgusting food into the fire when the man was distracted. The grass had gotten caught in his _teeth_. He’d spent twenty minutes picking it all out. He’d even taken a slurp from Ardyn’s flask to get rid of the taste.

_That was probably why I slept so well last night considering the location. Whatever he puts in that flask is enough to knock out a behemoth._

Sometimes Prompto wondered if Ardyn gave him a few drops whenever he was being particularly difficult as an infant to make him sleep. It wouldn’t surprise him. His adoptive father had always been unconventional.

“You look distracted.” Iris’s voice pulled Prompto from his thoughts. The scent of food was getting stronger, and she’d slowed to a halt, eyeing him with concern. “Oh please don’t be frightened, Prompto.” She suddenly blurted, and the hint of desperation in her voice made Prompto step back. It was almost like his emotional state was worth something _special._ “I know this all must be overwhelming, but we want you to be happy here, okay?”

_Wow. This chick is intense. Maybe it’s because she never gets visitors._

“I’m fine.” Prompto reassured, not liking how worried she suddenly appeared. “You’ve…provided me with a unique greeting, but I’m still happy to have met you.”

It was the truth. Despite everything, Prompto liked Iris. It wasn’t in his nature to outright dislike people without reason. It was so rare that anyone treated him normal, that he felt grateful every time someone like Iris came along.

“Now,” Prompto went on, stepping ahead for the first time. “Let’s go. I’m starving.” He’d all but forgotten the threat of poison in his hunger.

“That’s the spirit!” Iris cheered, and Prompto jolted when he felt her arm entwine with his. He thought of pulling away, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Besides, it wasn’t a romantic entwinement. It felt like something a cute little sister would do.

He…actually kind of enjoyed it. Asides from random perverts (and his father) no one ever touched him. It was refreshing.

_I…actually kind of like it here._

 

* * *

 

**_I want to leave._ **

The man before him is tall, tattooed, heavily muscled, and with scars on his face. He isn’t smiling, in fact he’s glaring, and Prompto is pulling away from Iris hurriedly. Judging by the protective look on his face, _this_ is the big brother Iris had mentioned earlier.

“Gladdy!” Iris beams, wrapping an arm around her much larger brother. “This is Prompto!”

‘Gladdy' peers at Prompto like he is something particularly scummy, and the blond shrinks in on himself, trying to appear as a smaller target. “The name’s Gladiolus.” The man says hardly.

“Prompto.” Prompto squeaks, rather unnecessarily, considering Iris had already introduced him. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you?” It comes out as a question, and Prompto cringes at his own awkwardness.

Gladiolus offers a hand, and Prompto extends his own. They shake, and Prompto’s knuckles crack under the overt pressure.

“Gladdy.” Iris hisses, and stomps on her brother’s foot. The man doesn’t even wince, although he does pull away. Prompto massages his hand with a grimace. “I’m sorry about my brother.” Iris said, stomping again for good measure. “He’s an overprotective fool.” She rounds on him with a fierce look. “Honestly Gladio, if Noct is too old for me, why would Prompto be any different?” She turns over her shoulder. “Prompto, are you attracted to me?”

_What kind of hell is this?_

“No!” Prompto shook his head adamantly. “Not my type at all.” He said, before adding a “Sorry” at the end for good measure. “I mean, it’s just, I…” He babbled, and he blushed when Gladiolus began chuckling heartily. He fell into a pout when he realised he was being made fun of, and glowered upwards at the mammoth man. “I…want to go home.” He finished, and Gladiolus abruptly stopped laughing.

“You must stay for breakfast.” Iris insisted mulishly.

“I would love to, it smells delicious, but I really need to find Ardyn.”

“Ardyn?” Iris repeated, with a cocked head. “Is he your papa?”

“He’s my adoptive father, yes.” Prompto affirmed. “But I haven’t seen him since last night and I’m worried.” The blatant honesty in his tone had the two siblings exchanging significant looks, which Prompto didn’t miss. His heart sunk. “ _Please_ tell me he’s not gotten into any trouble…”

“Does that happen often?”

“Where is he? I need to know.” Prompto refused to answer Gladiolus, focused on locating his adoptive father.

“I asked you-“

“I don’t care what you asked me!” Prompto snapped, losing his patience. “I don’t know what the hell you two are playing at, but I want my father back! I know we’ve trespassed, but once you return him to me, we’ll never come back to this awful, ridiculously dark place again!” Prompto seethed at the end of his rant, fists clenched. “Now, if you don’t mind-“

The great wooden door behind Gladiolus suddenly flew open, revealing a slim, toned man in spectacles. His hair was perfectly styled, and the glare in his eyes could rival even _Ardyn’s_ when the man was displeased. “I bloody well do mind!” He glowered. “Guest or not, I will not have you bellowing at the top of your lungs. Now, get in here. You’re late for breakfast and I _did not_ cook this meal for it to go cold.” He tapped his polished shoes, and stood aside. “Chop, chop!” He ordered in his sharp accent. “Breakfast and tea, **_now.”_**

For lack of anything to retort, Prompto dumbly followed his instructions, ghosting past Gladiolus and Ignis to enter the revealed kitchen. It was as impressive as the rest of the castle, with one main difference.

It was warm, and it was bright, and it was _inhabited_.

And one of the inhabitants was his papa.

Said man was sat comfortably at the head of the food-coated table, spreading a dollop of jam on a fluffy scone.

_So much for healthy eating._

Despite his sarcastic thought, Prompto surged forward, practically flying into the man’s chair. “Papa!” He cried, wrapping a skinny arm around Ardyn’s shoulders. “I thought you’d been imprisoned!”

“There, there.” Ardyn soothed, patting his arm comfortingly. “I was just intercepted on my morning stroll by that Ignis fellow. He offered a scrumptious breakfast, and was even so kind as to have you fetched for me. Isn't that lovely?”

Prompto narrowed his eyes, taking in the other two people in the room. Both of them were glaring at Ardyn distrustfully. Which meant one or two things.

One: The man had said something upsetting or offensive.

Or two: They had intended on keeping him in here.

It was probably a mixture of both, if Prompto was being realistic.

_He was so hell-bent on not leaving me alone in this castle. There’s no way he’d leave me to my own devices surrounded by **strangers,** no less. Something is amiss here. _

Disregarding his typical bright attitude, Prompto leaned closer to his adoptive father. “No.” He said flatly. “It isn’t.”

_Papa is the only person I have in my life. I can’t let them mistreat him. If something were to happen to him, I’d be all alone. Like when I was a baby in Niflheim._

“I’ve changed my mind.” Prompto looked to the two men. One was relatively unremarkable looking, but the other had silvery hair, and was glaring at Ardyn like he wanted to melt his face off by the power of his stare alone. “I want to leave. Vyv will be happy with what I’ve managed to capture here. So, if you just finish that scone and get up, we can get out of here.” He waited for Ardyn to nod, and his heart sunk when the man didn’t reply. “Papa?”

Ardyn sighed, and it wasn’t in his usual dramatic fashion. It was _genuinely_ tired. “Remember the story I told you before we came inside the castle, pet?”

Prompto nodded slowly. “Of course. I always listen to your fairy tales.”

“Well, it has just occurred to me…” The man took a bite of the scone, chewing slowly, before swallowing. “That I have, erm…”

_What alternate universe is this? In what reality does Ardyn look so **sheepish?**_

“You know that curse he likely mentioned?” It was the man with the short hair who spoke up. “It turns out that he’s actually part of it, only he wasn’t in the palace when it was cast. But now he’s come back here…”

“He can’t leave.” The silver haired man cut in viciously. “ _Unfortunately_ for us.”

“Now Ravus, I thought we were friends.” Ardyn replied in a patronising manner.

“You dare address me by my first name!?”

“Evidently.”

“You despicable-“

“Papa….” Prompto addressed, hands trembling. This was too much. He felt like he was going to faint from the tension of it all. “You _know_ these people?”

“Insolent whelp,” Ravus snarled, unhappy with the interruption. “He’s known us before you were even _conceived_ from whatever Niflheim lab they manufactured you in.”

_I…can’t do this._

Prompto hated hearing about his birthplace. Even worse, he hated being _insulted_ for it. He could get that from any Crow’s Nest outside of Lucis.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that wristband, _clearly_ hiding a barcode.”

Prompto abruptly pushed away from Ardyn, his eyes stinging. “Curse or not,” He managed to say without breaking into tears. “I can’t spend another minute here!” He didn’t bother glancing back at Ardyn as he fled from the kitchen, ramming past Gladiolus and Ignis. If the man truly cared about him, he’d follow. If not…

_My life is about to get **a lot** lonelier. _

He heard voices call after him, but he increased his speed. He may not have been strong, but he was fast. He could outrun nearly anybody if he tried, although he tended to run out of steam quickly. This time though, he forced his feet forward, not wanting to give anybody the opportunity to catch him. His spirits sunk considerably lower when he didn’t hear Ardyn pursuing him. It seemed what that man in the kitchen had said was _true._ Ardyn wouldn’t pull a cruel trick like this. Well, at least on Prompto. There was no guarantee for anyone else.

Prompto knew a courageous person would turn back, to try and work through all of this befuddling information. But…

It was too much. Even accepting that the curse was real was doing a bad number on Prompto’s brain. Not to mention, the attention he’d been receiving was overwhelming, and he felt like he’d been being judged for something. That Ignis in particular had had a scrutinising gaze….

Not to mention the noble featured Ravus who looked keen to rip Prompto in half with his bare hands. What had he ever done to that guy? Or, more accurately, what had _Ardyn_ done? Ravus seemed to detest the burgundy haired man with all of his being. Prompto could sense the deadly antagonism a mile away.

_Ardyn may not sleep often, but when he does, he should rest with one eye open._

Naturally, Prompto was worried his papa was going to have his throat slit. Or, alternatively, slit _someone else’s_ throat.

_No. That isn’t his style. He’d just torment them until they succumbed to madness._

Prompto knew the man too well. It would be easy to exploit his weaknesses, if Prompto needed to. It spoke volumes of Ardyn’s fondness for him that the man hadn’t ended his life already. If he were to team up with the right people, and try to assassinate the odd man…

_Which would **never** happen. He’s my papa!_

So consumed by his fretful musings, Prompto didn’t notice the figure proceeding down the same hallway, until he collided with the body with a SLAM. It was considerably harder than Iris’s, and the owner of said body was taller, as well. Tall _and_ strong enough to catch Prompto before he collapsed onto the ground, lunging forward to wrap his arms around Prompto’s waist and steady him.

The hands of this new person were firm, and the palms calloused. Prompto could feel them grazing the bare skin of his waist, from where his shirt had slid up. The welcome warmth made him shudder, and he found himself unwittingly leaning into the grasp.

His chest rose and fell harshly, and he realised how exerted he was from running for so long. He’d been sprinting in an aimless direction, and now that he had stopped, he realised how utterly lost he was. He didn’t recognise the scenery _at all._

_So much for getting out of here._

Prompto huffed, and looked upwards. His saviour’s features were in shadow, due to the lack of lighting in whatever hall they were in. He could barely make out the shape of the guy’s spiked hair. And it _had_ to be a guy, because he _certainly_ hadn’t ran into any breasts. Unless his saviour was an extremely flat-chested female…

“Um,” Prompto felt incredibly awkward, and managed to muster a smile, despite his situation. He had always been a smiley person. Whether it was false, or real. Honestly, sometimes Prompto couldn’t even tell the difference between his genuine and false grins. It was a fine line that often got muddled. “Hi.” He finished lamely, smile faltering. Surely, this person couldn’t see him smiling, but Prompto was of the firm belief that smiles could be detected, even when they weren’t visible.

(“Always smile, Prompto.”) Ardyn had once told him. He’d been icing a blooming bruise that Prompto had received at a Tenebrae café. The other patrons had sniffed Prompto out from a mile away, and upon him paying the bill and departing, he’d been cornered by a few similarly aged boys who had taken it upon themselves to righteously beat him to a pulp.

_(“Niff scum!”)_ They’d sneered, swinging their fists with little finesse. Prompto had tried retaliating, but it hadn’t been a fair fight. Plus, he’d always been smaller than the other boys his age, a natural disadvantage in any kind of physical confrontation. _(“This is what you get for destroying our oracle!”)_

Prompto hadn’t a clue what they’d been talking about, but that hadn’t mattered. They were burly, angry youths, and they took their tempers out on the closest weakling.

(“Why?”) Prompto’s voice was flat, emotionless. He’d been exhausted, and the majority of his tiredness hadn’t come from being beaten up. A few bruises weren’t what had made him feel so defeated. It was the knowledge that no matter where he went, and no matter who he met, they would all inevitably end up hating him for where he had come from. **_For who he was._**

(“Well, did you cry?”)

Prompto had shook his head in denial, but there was no disguising the redness of his eyes or the tear-tracks on his aching cheeks. (“N-No!”)

Ardyn had given him a knowing look, but hadn’t pressed the matter, merely beginning to apply a small herbal salve to a cut on Prompto’s arm, from where he’d been shoved to the ground. (“Never give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry, lad. They _feed_ off of that. Seeing your tears gives them validation. If you keep a stiff upper lip, and _smile_ , even throughout all of the pain, they’ll leave you alone. There’s nothing more frightful than a man who doesn’t _feel_.”)

(“But…I _do_ feel.”)

(“And that will be our little secret.”) Ardyn tutted when Prompto tried to pull away, as the man began prodding his ribs for any fractures. (“ ** _Smile,_** Prompto. It suits you.”)

“Thanks for catching me.” Prompto went on, valiantly keeping his smile. Ardyn’s past words echoed in his head, reminding him not to show weakness before this stranger. He wasn’t armed with weaponry, nor was he a good combatant. A smile was all he had. “I’m sorry I kind of, ya know…” He cleared his throat, when the stranger didn’t speak. “Bumped into you, like that.”

“Bumped into me?” The stranger has a pleasant masculine voice, and it’s tinged with amusement. Prompto can’t help but naturally relax at that voice, not sensing anything sinister within it. It seems straight-forward, honest, like whoever this stranger is, they aren’t that experienced with being deceptive. This is the voice of one who wears their heart on their sleeve, who says whatever comes to mind, often without thinking it over…

One who doesn’t expect any repercussions for speaking recklessly, because…

_There was supposed to be a prince in this castle, right?_

Prompto squints so hard that he goes cross-eyed, and blushes at the snort he gets from the stranger. With all of this darkness in the castle, it only makes sense that the inhabitants had eyes that had grown accustomed to the lack of lighting. Likely, this stranger could make out most of Prompto’s facial features…

“You didn’t bump into me,” The stranger continues, and Prompto can _hear_ a smirk in his voice. “You _rammed_ into me. What were you running from?”

“Oh, nothing in particular.” Prompto wasn’t about to readily admit he’d fled from a delicious breakfast specially prepared for him. He’d seem horribly ungrateful. Not to mention, this stranger might flay him for his rudeness, _especially_ if he was the prince, like Prompto heavily suspected.

_Just everything I fear in the world. Recognition, hatred, my papa abandoning me…_

“Was it a beast?”

_Is he… **teasing** me? Does he know why I’m here? That would be horrendously embarrassing. _

When he didn’t respond, the stranger released him, and Prompto found himself missing those toasty hands. He tugged anxiously at his clothing, wishing he’d thought to shrug on Ardyn’s extra coat before gallivanting around the castle.

“I’d like to go now.” Prompto said slowly. “If that’s okay.” Then, before he could stop himself, he added “ _Your majesty.”_ When the stranger visibly started at the address, his suspicions were confirmed. So _this_ was the moody Lucian prince who had doomed this castle (and his papa). He didn’t _seem_ like a horrible person, he had just stopped Prompto from falling onto the hard marble, after all. Perhaps he would withhold any disdain for now.

“Noctis is fine.” The cursed prince said curtly, and Prompto cocked his head. He’d been expecting the other male to demand he bow in respect, or do something else suitably pompous. “I’m guessing you’re the Prompto I’ve been told about?”

_‘Told about?’ They **have** been spying on us. I bet this prince was alerted to our presence the moment we stepped inside the castle. That’s kind of…humiliating. _

There were many things Prompto had said and done in his exploring that could be deemed rather embarrassing, and just thinking about this prince being briefed on his clumsy exploring (and cringe-worthy bickering with Ardyn) was enough to make him flush. It was also kind of, well, _rude._ “You could have just introduced yourselves.” Prompto crossed his arms, jutting his chin up in a display of haughtiness. “Instead of stalking me and my papa. That could be considered harassment, you know.”

Noctis mirrored his stance, and Prompto could sense the smirk widening. “You two are the ones who trespassed on my property. If _anyone’s_ being harassed, it’s me and my staff.”

“Spoken like a true privileged prince.”

Immediately, Prompto knew his snarky retort had been a mistake. Noctis fell silent, and the atmosphere seemed to thicken to the same consistency of butter. He took a step backwards, and squeaked when Noctis followed.

“You think,” Noctis begun, in a low tone, and Prompto took it _back,_ the other male sounded scary. **_Intense._** “That being a prince is easy?” When he pauses, Prompto realises he expects an answer.

Of course, he flounders. “I…wouldn’t know. I’m not a prince.” It was a reasonable response. Nothing confrontational about it. There was no reason for Noctis to take offense with that answer.

“Yeah.” Noctis scoffed. “You’re not. So you have _no_ idea how it feels to be weighed down by everyone’s expectations, to be chosen for something you can’t possibly comprehend, and to be groomed for a crown you aren’t even sure you want!”

Prompto flinched at the prince’s raised voice, and felt a little guilty for making assumptions. It was clear this ‘Noctis’ was suffering right now. Or maybe…

_He always **has** been suffering. It must be hard being the example of a dying bloodline. I bet he’s never had a day of **real** fun in his entire life. _

Despite Ardyn’s tale, Prompto felt sympathy for the prince. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly, gaze directed downwards. He could barely make out his own foot in the darkness. “That was a…mean thing for me to say.”

_Mean? I sound like a little kid._

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“How could you?” Noctis sighed. “We just met. Look, I’m sorry as well. Can we just forget this ever happened? Be re-introduced?”

_That_ was something Prompto could get behind.

_An opportunity to remedy my bad first impression? Sign me the fuck up!_

“I’m Prompto Argentum.” Prompto offered his hand for the second time that morning, and was relieved when Noctis shook it gently, with a delicacy Gladiolus had lacked. “I know it’s a funny name, but I don’t think it’s that odd compared to-“ He jolts when his hand is raised, and lips ghost over his knuckles. His first instinct is to jerk away, but…

_Noctis is a **prince.** Maybe kissing someone’s hand is a princely thing. _

And _maybe_ Prompto had never been kissed on the hand before and wanted to savour the sensation. It was such a _romantic_ gesture…

“Noctis.” The prince said, lips moving across Prompto’s cool flesh. “Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

It was certainly a royal name. Much more impressive than ‘Prompto’.

Prompto gave a small, nervous giggle. Noctis’s breath tickled his flesh. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance, your majesty. Should I curtsy?”

He’d meant what he’d said as a joke, but blinked in confusion when Noctis murmured “If you want to.”

_There’s **no way** I’m curtsying like some smitten maiden!_

Still though, his hand tingled when Noctis drew away, and his cheeks felt undeniably hot. Suddenly, he felt a pressing need to see this prince clearly. To know the shape of the lips that had kissed his hand with such tenderness, and to witness Noctis’s fabled handsomeness for himself. It would be a waste _not_ to behold someone so charming…

_I guess I could use the light on my phone. I’ve been conserving enough battery…_

With a shaky breath, Prompto pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped at the screen, and a white light (momentarily blinding to his sensitive eyes) revealed the hallway before him. “Illuminate.” He muttered to himself.

“You’re such a nerd.” The prince said.

Once Prompto’s eyes had adjusted to the new brightness, he turned the phone on the prince. “Come into the light?” He requested, a little unsurely. “If…you don’t mind. I just want to see your face.”

_‘I just want to see your face’? What a **lame** thing to say._

“Sure.” Noctis agreed, without protest. He stepped into the glare, and his face was finally revealed. Like Ardyn had said, the prince was _indeed_ handsome. His features were of clear aristocratic descent, and there was something inherently noble about the way he carried himself. His blue eyes seemed to glow, and Prompto felt captivated. He felt he could _lose himself_ in those depths… “What were you expecting?” Noctis asked, when Prompto gaped at him silently. “Horns and fangs?”

“And fur.” Prompto admitted sheepishly. Without thinking, he reached up a hand to touch the prince’s raven hair, before pulling back suddenly. “Maybe a tail as well.” He added, hoping Noctis wouldn’t comment on his weird, withdrawn action. “They _did_ say you were a beast. To me though, you’re more like an intimidating ghost haunting a derelict residence.”

“Don’t let Ignis hear you say that. He takes great pride in the castle.”

“I won’t let him hear me say anything.” Prompto shook his head, and tried to ignore how his heart had started pounding in chest. Noctis was having some weird… _influence_ over him. “I’m leaving now, remember?”

“You said you’d _‘like’_ to leave. Is there any way I can change your mind?”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I kinda feel guilty writing this when I have another story to be focusing on, but writing this is so fun I can't help myself! And hearing your feedback just makes it even better :3 Thank you so much for your Kudos and comments! (Please) Continue to give feedback if you'd like, but no pressure!
> 
> I hope you're all having a nice day/night wherever you are! I hope this chapter brought you a little bit of happiness!


	4. No, sir! Not me! I guarantee it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can ever be easy. 
> 
> Especially love. 
> 
> Noctis and Prompto are no exception to this rule, and Ardyn's interference doesn't help matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you guys! I won't say anything about it, as I don't want to spoil anything. I hope you enjoy! :)

 

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto’s mind vividly flashed back to the crowded kitchen, recalling the hostile atmosphere that had lurked within its cavernous depths. “Not if you paid me a million gil.” He said dryly.

“Have you been insulted?”

_That’s a chivalrous thing to ask._

Prompto was (slightly) impressed. The prince had received him nicely, and asides from the momentary loss of temper, their interaction had been pleasant. “It isn’t your concern.” Prompto replied, not unkindly. “I just…need to leave. Can I ask you a favour, though? I know it’s rude of me, since you’re a prince, but I didn’t get a chance to ask Iris or Ignis…”

“Anything.”

**_Wow._ ** _Did his voice deepen when he said that, or was it just me?_

“Um, my papa. His name is Ardyn.” When Noctis’s eyes narrowed into a glare, Prompto sighed. “Yeah. That’s the reaction most people have when they hear his name. But he’s a good guy, once you get past his smugness and general assholary.” When Noctis appeared unconvinced, he went on with a valiant smile. “ _I mean it._ He really is.”

“And why does this concern me?”

_Goodbye suave, hello distant. This prince seriously **is** moody. His scowl is super scary, too. _

“Well he’s playing some weird game with me,” Prompto tried for flippant, waving a hand as if what he was saying had no consequence. “When he gets bored, he’ll come find me. Just…ignore any of his antics, please? I promise he’s _completely_ harmless.”

_That…is the shoddiest promise I’ve made in my whole life. Even worse than the one I made about not losing my contact lenses. Speaking of, I need a new pair. I shouldn’t have slept in these ones…_

“History would dispute that claim.”

“I don’t know all of his history. I just have experience as **_his_ ** son. I think that trumps _your_ experience with him.”

“You think so?” Noctis challenged.

“Dude, are you hearing impaired? I **_know_** so.”

“Fifty gil says he’s in the kitchen right now fighting Ravus.”

“You mean the grumpy guy with the silver hair? You’re on, _prince. **I**_ bet he’s stirring a cup of tea and complimenting the cook on the delicious breakfast spread. I saw him happily tucking into a scone earlier.”

Noctis appeared completely bemused by the wager, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “You sure you want to bet me _that?_ There’s no take-backs once we shake on it.”

“I’m counting on it.” Prompto said adamantly, and shoved his hand in Noctis’s direction. “Now let’s shake. Like _real_ men.”

Noctis snorted. “I’m the realest man you’ve ever met.”

“Pfft. That sounded so lame.”

“Just shake my hand already!” Noctis offered his own hand, and the two shook firmly. Only after completing the motion, did Prompto realise something.

_To see this bet through, I’ll have to return to the kitchen._

Such a prospect was almost terrifying enough to have Prompto forking out the fifty gil immediately, but he _really_ didn’t want to lose against this competitive prince. Noctis needed to be knocked down a few pegs. And…

He also wanted to spend a little more time with him. Something about the prince was captivating, magnetic…

Prompto squeaked when Noctis suddenly grasped his arm in a tender hold. He did so in a gentlemanly manner, one which Prompto assumed was usually reserved for women. “I am not some fair maiden!” Prompto protested feebly, although he didn’t break away. “Or a pretty girl.” He added, for good measure.

Noctis’s response was to run his other hand through Prompto’s wild mess of hair. He shivered at the soothing sensation. He’d always loved having his hair toyed with, ever since he was a child… “I know that.” Noctis replied flippantly. “But I don’t discriminate. A pretty boy can have the same treatment as a pretty girl if I so desire it.”

“If you so desire it? Dude, you sound like a control-freak.”

“You should see _Ignis_. He makes me look like a patient saint.” Noctis told, as the two began heading back to the kitchen. Their pace was slow, casual. Like the prince was in no real hurry at all to see who had won their little bet. “He’s always harping at me. ‘Get out of bed, Noctis!’ ‘Stop napping, Noctis!’ ‘Comic books don’t count as real reading material, Noctis!’”

Prompto snickered at the impersonation. He hadn’t known Ignis for long, but he had a feeling Noctis’s acting was very much akin to the accented man. And more importantly… “You like comic books!?” Prompto exclaimed, eyes wide and twinkling.

“Yeah.” Noctis replied relaxedly. “You too?”

“Yes! I’ve always loved them. Papa says they’re brainless, but the storylines and the action and the colours are just so amazing!” Prompto realised he was rambling, and blushed. “Ah, sorry. I just…really like comic books.”

_He’s going to think I’m a complete nerd. He’ll probably make fun of me…_

“I have an entire room devoted to comics. They’re all kept in special cases to preserve them. I have a member of staff dust in there once a day. Do you have a favourite edition? Or issue?”

Needless to say, Prompto was blown away.

_Handsome, funny, and also a **HUGE** closet nerd!? Who would have known the beast of the Lucian Castle was **so cool!**_

Caught up in his admiration, Prompto could only stare at Noctis with awe, allowing the other man to guide him through the halls. His brain worked at a slow pace, only providing him with an answer once it was finished being thoroughly amazed by Noctis. “I really like the comics devoted to the Chocobo heroes.” Prompto pretended to be thoughtful, as if his long pause had been devoted to finding an answer. “ _Captain Chocobo Volume 1_ was the first edition Papa ever got me. I begged him for it until he finally gave in.” Prompto smirked in remembrance. He’d never been a particularly bratty child, but he’d certainly pitched a rather memorable tantrum that day in the shop. For good reason, too. Ardyn was totally prejudiced against comics. He could still remember the rather uncommon flush the man had sported as he hastily purchased the comic and shoved Prompto out of the store. It was a fond memory. For _him_ , at least. Prompto wasn’t sure Ardyn felt the same way… “It was amazing! One of my favourite origin stories!”

This time, Noctis fell into a long silence, and Prompto half-hoped the prince was amazed by _him_ , in return. “It’s okay, I guess. I like _Chocobo Man_ better. His armour design is perfect, and his helmet looks _just_ like a chocobo head. But I really like _Black Choco_ as well, her origin story is totally badass.”

“Yeah!” Prompto readily agreed. Truth be told, he was embarrassingly excited to be having a conversation about this. He hadn’t had any friends before, and Ardyn had never seemed open to discussing comic books. The man had even feigned sleep once to avoid hearing Prompto chatter over one of the storylines! “She should totally have her own movie!”

“ _Wait-_ they have movies now?” Noctis was in disbelief. “The last I heard, they were only talking about the cost of production…”

“Dude, you really need to get out of this castle. They have four movies now! I’m waiting for the next one to be released…” Prompto trailed off, watching as Noctis grimaced.

_Oh. I forgot he can’t leave. Not until he breaks that curse…_

“I think I have one saved on my phone. Maybe we could watch it sometime…”

“Does that mean you will stay in my castle?”

Prompto just gave the prince a wry smile. “I could visit. Maybe. I’d need to charge my phone first.” He’d yet to turn off the battery draining light, wanting to keep watching the prince. “It would be easier if I had a laptop, but I only borrow one of Vyv’s when I need to…”

“Vyv?” Noctis’s voice had hardened somewhat. “She your girlfriend?”

Prompto burst into laughter at the frankly _ridiculous_ question. “Dude, **_no._** He’s my boss!”

“And you…aren’t together?”

“He’s definitely not my type, and even if he was, it would be unprofessional.”

“What _is_ your profession? Are you a journalist?”

Prompto scoffed light-heartedly at this. “As if they’d let a Niff be a journalist. No, I’m a freelance photographer. I submit my work to certain publications and earn commission.”

Noctis stiffened at the word Niff, but didn’t mention Prompto’s heritage. “How much pay does that get you?”

“Enough to get by.” Prompto answered truthfully. “Sometimes gil gets a little tight, but I’m usually okay. Papa helps, if I need it…” Although he _did_ hate borrowing his papa’s cash. Prompto liked being self-reliant. This usually meant Ardyn would go ahead and leave him a small sum of gil wordlessly before Prompto got desperate enough to ask for a loan.

“If you stayed here, you would want for nothing.” Noctis uttered in fierce promise.

“Except for electricity.” Prompto said flatly.

“You have me there.” Noctis admitted reluctantly. “It sucks.”

“It would be better if you opened some curtains, man. It’s so dark in here…”

The two paused, as they finally reached the doors through which Prompto had formerly fled. Surprisingly, they weren’t guarded. Noctis seemed relieved by this, and took a deep breath before pushing them open with purpose. Immediately, they heard the din of heated conversations, which turned hushed upon Noctis stepping inside.

Pasting on a sheepish smile, Prompto followed. His eyes immediately sought Ardyn, and he shot Noctis a smug look upon seeing the man tapping his index finger on his teacup, humming underneath his breath in a cavalier manner. Sure, he wasn’t sipping from the cup or complimenting Ignis, but his assumption had been closer to the truth than the prince’s. That meant he _won._ Victory sure felt _sweet._ So sweet, that Prompto dared to poke his tongue out at the prince, a disrespectful action that had Ignis (who had been scrubbing some dishes in the basin) frowning in distaste. But the grimace Noctis pulled was **_worth it._** It wasn’t often that Prompto got to prove himself right. He was always betting against _Ardyn_ , after all. He nearly _always_ lost against the man.

Said man looked up upon his entrance, and the toothy grin on his face morphed into something darker when he saw Noctis’s grip on Prompto’s arm. He stood abruptly from his seat, amber eyes narrowing dangerously. “Prince Noctis,” He addressed in an oily tone, ignoring his son for the meantime. “It’s simply _marvellous_ to see you again. And looking so well, might I add! Perpetual darkness must suit your complexion.”

Noctis released Prompto, his fists clenching at his sides. “Ardyn.” He got out from between gritted teeth, narrowing his own eyes in return. Prompto didn’t like the aggressive act, and stepped away, venturing closer to the relative safety of his father. Ignis cleared his throat pointedly, and the prince scowled at his boots, before looking up with a painfully tight smile. “It has been some time.”

Prompto relaxed, heaving a small sigh under his breath. For a moment, he’d feared a fight would erupt. “You know the prince, Papa?” Prompto questioned. He wasn’t particularly surprised, considering Ardyn had seemed well educated on the prince’s past. Just _another_ of his papa’s sudden surprises.

“Evidently.” Ravus piped snidely. His arms were crossed, and for the first time, Prompto realised that one of them was a prosthetic.

_I wonder what happened to his real arm…_

“We have been acquainted, in times past.” Ardyn answered, sweeping an arm around the room. “ _All of us_ , as a matter of fact. What a pleasant reunion.”

“That isn’t the word I’d choose.” Gladiolus grumbled, and Iris elbowed him roughly. The girl was hovering close at his elbow, watching the proceedings with a flighty sort of look.

“Please sit down.” Ignis spoke up, in the brief silence that followed. He had temporarily abandoned his task, drying his bare hands with a cloth before carefully slipping his gloves back on. Although there wasn’t anything demanding in his voice, his face was unwavering. “You have yet to eat this morning. Most of the food is cold now, but _some_ is still edible.”

Prompto stalled, indecisive. His earlier hunger had returned, but he was still weary of poison. But…

_I don’t think the prince wants to poison me. If he wanted me dead, they would have managed by now. And Ardyn was eating earlier, he wouldn’t do that unless he knew the food was safe. He hasn’t protested about me eating it, either…_

Prompto nodded his head jerkily. “O-okay.” He took a hesitant step towards the chair at Ardyn’s left, but jumped slightly when Noctis steered him away, to the head of the sturdy table. He pulled a seat out to its right, and when Prompto merely stared uncomprehendingly, he gestured for the blond to sit. It was quite the display of chivalry, and Prompto blushed. “That really isn’t necessary. I’m perfectly capable-“

“I know you are.” Noctis cut in firmly. “But _I want to_ , okay?” His indigo eyes peered at Prompto intensely, and the blond blinked slowly, becoming a _teeny_ little bit-

_A stupidly **large** bit._

Lost in them. The colour was so beautiful, unlike anything Prompto had ever seen before…

_They’re even lovelier than Cindy’s._

He found himself nodding his head dumbly, collapsing onto the chair in an obedient stupor. To busy his hands, he deftly toyed with a silver fork, cheeks darkening as he sensed the eyes of everyone in the room on him. The tension was _horrible._

_At least the seat is comfy…_

“Would you prefer tea, or coffee, Prompto? The beans we grind are no _Ebony_ , but we grow our own herbs for the tea.”

Truthfully, Prompto didn’t like either option. His appreciation for tea had been ruined by Ardyn, and he feared coffee now would only make him more on edge, which he certainly didn’t need. He chewed on his bottom lip as he contemplated Ignis’s inquiry, and relaxed when Ardyn was kind enough to answer for him.

“Dear Prompto is a trifle jittery this morning. Juice or water would be most appropriate.”

Prompto sent Ardyn an appreciative look, and shivered when he saw the murderous glare the man was angling at Noctis. Clearly, he hadn’t liked Noctis’s choices for the seating arrangements. It was just like the man to get irritated over something so seemingly insignificant.

“Iris.” Ignis prompted curtly, and the girl flounced forward, leaning over the table to take an ornate pitcher in her hands. She came to his side in a diligent manner, and poured a stream of golden liquid into his silver goblet.

Once more, Prompto felt flabbergasted. “I can do that myself.” He voiced for a second time.

Iris gave him a cheerful smile. “This is my job, Prompto. I’m here to serve the prince, and the prince’s guests. I am happy to be of assistance.”

“If you say so…” Prompto took a sip of the goblet once she was finished, enjoying the crisp taste of apple that refreshed his palate. “Thank you. It’s really nice.”

“I recommend a bagel.” Iris whispered with a wink, and Prompto eyed a platter filled with all sorts of golden pastries. “Ignis only cooks like this when he wants to impress people. Sooth his ego, will you? My brother finds him insufferable when he thinks his cooking isn’t being appreciated enough…”

Prompto gave a short glance to Ignis, who was peering at him with the utmost expectancy. “Yeah,” He whispered back. “I can see that.” Heeding her advice, he reached out and selected a bagel, taking a small bite. Immediately, he moaned at the exquisite taste. The bread was soft and buttery, and the berries it had been made with added a tart flavour…

Gladiolus chuckled at the reaction, and even the stoic Cor cracked a small smirk.

“I take it you like?” Noctis prompted. He’d already amassed a rather sizeable amount of food on his plate, and was devouring it speedily. Even as he spoke, he still had a mouthful of cool eggs in his mouth. It was such an undignified act, that Prompto snorted around his own mouthful of food, near choking as he swallowed it down with the aid of his juice. “What’s so funny?” Noctis demanded confusedly, crumbs of toasted bread decorating his chin.

Iris giggled at the amusing sight, Cor shook his head, and Ravus murmured something insulting underneath his breath. Gladiolus and Ignis exchanged exasperated looks, with the latter expressing his dissatisfaction “Your majesty, _manners_.”

Suddenly aware of the sight he painted, Noctis swallowed thickly. His eyes searched for a napkin, but upon finding none he wiped his face (much to Ignis’s abject horror) on the edge of the dark tablecloth that hung over the table.

Perhaps a fair maiden or noblewoman would have been most offended with the prince’s lack of table manners, but Prompto, well…

He burst into laughter, spraying his plate with juice. His nostrils burned, and he gasped for breath, consumed with mirth. “Holy shit dude,” He managed to get out in a wheeze. “You are the worst example of a prince I have ever seen!” It was a rather harsh statement, but Prompto’s humour (and lack of insinuating anything deeper) had Noctis laughing along as well.

It was such an uncommon sight to see the prince laughing these days that the castle dwellers could only watch in miffed silence. The last time they’d heard the raven haired male laugh, it had been cold and empty. Humourless. Devoid of joy. Now though…

Noctis was smiling brightly, and his laugh was filled with lightness. The prince was _genuinely_ happy. He wasn’t behaving forced, like he had with the others before Prompto…

Gladiolus reached out a long arm, and grasped Ignis’s hand. _‘This is the one’_ he mouthed.

Ignis spared him a thin smile, and nodded his head in agreement. “Still,” He moved closer to mutter in Gladiolus’s ear. “There is a long way to go. For _both_ of them.”

Upon the man saying just this, Ardyn abruptly got to his feet, the chair flying back to impact rather hard with the wall behind him. Some of the wood splintered, and the laughter ended as quickly as it had begun. “Indeed.” Ardyn said, and his voice was cold. He crossed his arms, and Gladiolus released Ignis’s hand, prepared to spring forward in case of an attack. “Noctis _is_ the worst example of a prince, _especially_ from his distinguished bloodline. He sits here cackling like a fool whilst his staff are chained to him forevermore. They are bound in servitude, due to his arrogance and idiocy. Do not forget this Prompto, just because **_he has pretty eyes._** ”

His last words were practically hissed, and Prompto shrank back in his seat. His papa had never spoken to him like that before…

_But he **is** right. If the story is true, Noctis is still a spoiled fool who doomed his entire castle along with himself because he refused to make peace. Is that **really** someone I want to nerd out with?_  

Prompto had been presented with logic, but in the face of Noctis’s downtrodden expression…

_Maybe he’s changed. I don’t know him well enough to judge yet. If I act on the assumption of old rumours, I’d be no better than the people who scorn me and papa. People **deserve** second-chances. And his staff don’t seem maltreated in the least…_

“Thank you for reminding me.” Prompto replied calmly, barely managing to hold Ardyn’s eye. “But Noctis has given me no reason to distrust him yet. I can…come to my own conclusions about him, Papa.” He gave the man a shaky smile. “I’m grown-up, after all.”

“Hah.” Ravus snorted. When Ignis gave him a withering look, he slid from his seat with much more civility than Ardyn. “I have duties to attend to.” He told aloofly. “Lunafreya and I have much to discuss about…” His eyes lingered on Prompto. “Recent events.”

_Lunafreya? That name sounds familiar. I think I’ve heard it before, in Tenebrae…_

“Send your sister _my kindest_ regards.” Ardyn intoned, voice oozing with oiliness. “With me here in the castle, I’m sure we’ll see one another _very soon.”_

Ravus paused, and Prompto saw every muscle in the man’s body stiffen, preparing to strike. He prepared to run interference for his papa, but Ignis stopped Ravus from attacking with a raised hand. “Go to your sister, Ravus. _Now_.”

“I don’t answer to chamberlains-“

“Do as he says.” Noctis ordered. He stood from his seat, and sent Ravus a hard look. “No harm will come to Luna. _I promise._ Just…go to her. Let me deal with this piece of trash.”

**_Piece of trash?_ **

Prompto fumed at the description of his father.

_What, he’s a ‘piece of trash’ because he isn’t **royalty**? Or **nobility**? I take back what I said. Prince Noctis **is** a total asshole. _

“Don’t talk about my father that way!” Prompto snapped, standing and stomping to Ardyn. He stood before the man in a semi-protective stance, as if to shield him from the verbal abuse. He’d heard these kind of slurs used against his papa before, and he was old enough now to be able to stand up for the man. It was the least he could do.

With his back to Ardyn, Prompto couldn’t see the satisfaction swimming in his eyes.

“He’s playing us.” Gladiolus realised, speaking softly to Ignis.

“Yes. He is.” Ignis’s eyes were observing the interaction sharply. “Ardyn is adverse to the match.”

“But he’s stuck here now like the rest of us!”

“Yet he’d rather languish his days here than allow Noctis to wed his son. It appears Lady Lunafreya was correct in what she said of the matter.”

“Ardyn _loves_ someone more than himself?” Gladiolus was in disbelief.

“I wouldn’t believe it unless I was here witnessing it. It seems seeing _truly is_ believing.”

Prompto noticed the pair whispering amongst themselves, and shivered in paranoia. The two didn’t appear sinister, but he doubted they liked the way he’d spoken to their prince. It was time to make a hurried departure, and **_never, ever, ever _**come back. “I’m sorry for behaving so silly, Papa.” He apologised furtively. “It was foolish of me to come here. Can we just go home now?” He looked over his shoulder pleadingly. “Please?”

“He can’t.” Cor stated, before Ardyn had time to formulate a calculated response. “He **_is_** cursed. More than usual, I mean.”

_‘More than usual?’_

“He is fettered with the rest of us, as the curse entailed. He cannot leave until the terms of the curse have been met, and Noctis-“

_Wait…_

Prompto’s eyes widened in realisation.

_To break the curse, Noctis needs to fall in **love.** They can’t possibly…_

Prompto recalled all of Noctis’s charming behaviour, his subtle flirting, his interest in Vyv, and that _damned_ kiss on the hand…

Seized by a fierce infuriation, Prompto picked up the closest projectile (which happened to be a gold patterned plate) and hurled it at Noctis’s head. The prince had quick enough reflexes to dodge, but couldn’t avoid the fruit bowl that came next, which impacted with a painful sounding clang. The prince spluttered, flicking off the grapes that had fallen from their stems and decorated his hair. An array of crimson apples thumped onto the floor, and Iris ducked down to collect them into her arms. She flicked her eyes to Noctis worriedly. His nose was now spurting a river of blood, but Prompto was disappointed to find that it didn’t seem broken.

**_That’s_** how angry he was.

_Here I thought he really liked me, but in reality he was just trying to **use** me…_

He was stupid to have thought otherwise. No one wanted to befriend or romance a failed MT. _Especially_ absurdly handsome princes.

“You **_are_** a beast!” Prompto spat, and he felt a horrible hurt blossoming in his chest. “I thought you wanted to be my friend, but you just wanted to make me infatuated with you, to break that stupid curse!”

Noctis shook his head wildly, raven hair shaking. “No! That wasn’t it at all! I mean, it didn’t work with the others, so why would it work with you?”

Inadvertently, Noctis had just made the situation worse. His attempt at remedying the misunderstanding only led to further anguish for the blond.

_So I’m just…some kind of **test subject?**_

Prompto’s shoulders quaked with barely suppressed emotion.

_I guess that’s all someone like me will **ever** be. _

Ardyn’s large palm grasped his shoulder. “Pay it no mind, pet.” He rumbled comfortingly. “Leave this place. There’s enough gil in my car to keep you comfortable for quite some time, if you need it.” When Prompto shook his head, the man tutted. “Now, now. Don’t be disagreeable. Papa is just trying to protect you.”

Prompto wanted so badly to obey, to flee and never think of the wretched castle again, but… “What about you?” He turned completely, looking up with watering eyes. “I can’t leave you here with these people. They don’t like you.”

Ardyn chuckled at the blatantly honestly. “Sticks and stones, Prompto. Sticks and stones.”

“And what of swords? And shields? They could _kill_ you, and I’d never even know!”

“They can’t kill me.”

“You can’t know that!”

“It is impossible.”

“You’re so overconfident!”

Ardyn sighed, and leaned forward to press his lips to Prompto’s forehead. It was a short, fatherly kiss, and when he drew back, he regarded Prompto with sternness. “ ** _You will go_**. Do you understand me? I didn’t spend all these years taking care of you, for you to throw your life away over something this petty. You are **_better_** than Prince Noctis. I’d rather **_rot_** here than allow the God’s to take away the last thing I find precious in this world.”

It was the most impassioned Prompto had ever heard Ardyn, and it was alarming to witness. All of his smarminess was absent, revealing someone _genuine_ underneath the cover. Someone frightful, but also someone very _caring._ Or at least someone who _used_ to be.

Prompto couldn’t disobey him. Not after everything the man had done for him. He owed this much to Ardyn, at least. “Fine.” He whispered, heaving a shaky breath. “But I’m not leaving you alone here forever. I’ll be back when I can.” Then, without sparing the others another glance, Prompto shot from the room as quick as a bullet, ignoring the calls behind him for the second time that day.

This time, he managed to locate the entrance, and wasted no time in swiping Ardyn’s stash of gil before speeding out of Lucis in his car. Ardyn’s convertible would have been faster, but he wasn’t risking Cindy’s fury for abandoning a perfectly adequate rental car.

_Don’t worry Papa, I’ll be back soon. I…just need to be **ready.**_

 

* * *

 

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you might be disappointed about Prompto's decision to leave Noctis high and dry, but I thought it made more sense than him rolling over and just letting Noctis have what he wants. After all, he's just met Noctis, and has known Ardyn for years. 
> 
> Noctis will have to try harder, especially if he wants to win over Papa Ardyn ;)
> 
> I also think Prompto would need some time to think rationally. Don't worry though, he'll be returning to the palace very soon. :)
> 
> I hope you're all well!
> 
> PS: I think Noctis and Prompto would totally love a chocobo-themed comic book.


	5. Every dog has his day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto researches ways to break the curse, to varying degrees of success. 
> 
> He also meets a rather interesting artisan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy. The title is taken from the song 'Aria' at the beginning of the Beauty and the Beast film :) I think you'll understand why I chose it once you finish reading this chapter.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What you have captured is truly remarkable.”

Usually Prompto would preen at such praise, but today he merely shrugs morosely. Compliments don’t thrill him. Not lately.

Not since he’d left that castle that still haunted him.

It had been a month since he’d fled from the Lucian territory like a coward. A month since he’d last seen his father, and a month since he’d last smiled sincerely. His last moments with Ardyn replayed in his mind each evening before bed, and he felt tormented by what had occurred in that horrible castle. He couldn’t rest. Nor find solace, only anger and despair.

And the majority of his fury was directed at himself. He was stuck in a cycle of self-loathing, regretting deeply his actions that had led to their current predicament. If only he had listened to the multiple warnings he had been given, heeded the advice of one much wiser then him, if he hadn’t disregarded Ardyn’s concerns like a flippant fool…

The man would still be traversing the world with his casual sense of arrogance, and Prompto would still have someone to turn to.  

He was pathetic.

He deserved misery after his idiotic behaviour.

“Is something wrong?”

Prompto was pulled from his sombre thoughts by Vyv’s question. He mustered a tiny smile, which wasn’t convincing in the least. “Sorry. I’m just a little tired.”

Vyv hummed, tapping at the laptop before him. He’d inserted Prompto’s memory card, and was currently browsing through the photographs Prompto had captured at the castle.

Prompto hadn’t had the nerve to look through them for quite some time, and when he finally mustered up the courage (and pushed down the nausea) he’d flicked through them shortly before bringing the camera in to Vyv. As usual, the photographs were of high-quality, the lighting and the positioning perfect. The abandoned scenery of Lucis was both sinister and beautiful to behold, and what he’d captured within the palace was enough to give anyone goose-bumps. Vyv whistled appreciatively at the sight of these photos, practically salivating at the thought of publishing them. No doubt his sales and subscriber count were about to sky-rocket. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” The man went on, squinting at a picture Prompto had taken inside the castle. “Did you clean before you took this? The palace looks immaculate…”

Prompto shrugged again. “It was just like that.”

“No sightings of any beasts or other mythical creatures?”

Prompto barely managed to hold back a grimace. “No.”

_Only something **much** worse. _

Noctis, with his gorgeous face and his intense eyes, flashed through Prompto’s mind. That face was impossible to forget, and hard not to admire, even in his mind’s eye. Noctis was the closest Prompto had ever gotten to legitimate flirting before, and the first person he’d been attracted to since his childish crush on Cindy. There had been a sort of rhythmic ease to their interactions, like Prompto could tell the prince anything he wanted, and the prince would confide in him, in return. Despite his protests to the contrary, there had been real… _attraction_ between them. Chemistry. Chemistry that may _not_ have just been the product of Noctis’s desperation for a lover. Prompto wasn’t stupid, once he looked back on their conversations, it was easy to realise Noctis hadn’t been faking. He wasn’t the sort of man to put on an act convincingly. Sure, he may withhold things, but he didn’t _seem_ like a liar. His moodiness would likely jeopardise his deception…

“I’m impressed, Prompto. Venturing into Insomnia took guts. You could do way better than this little gig. Why not expand your horizons? Still keeping me in the loop, of course.”

“’Insomnia?’” Prompto repeated confusedly. “Is that what the city used to be called?”

Vyv nodded, and opened a picture on photoshop, beginning to work a logo onto the edge of the frame. “Yeah. Back when Lucis was actually _a thing._ Now there’s no prince though, people just call the city ‘Lucis’. There’s no prince to enforce further territory, after all.”

_That makes sense, I guess._

“Insomnia. Kind of a depressing name, huh?” Prompto rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

_Fitting, since that’s what **I’m** currently suffering from. Ironic though, considering I doubt Noctis has **ever** suffered from sleep disruption. From what he told me, it seems he dozes quite frequently. _

“How do you know this?” Prompto went on, when Vyv merely hummed in reply, focused on his task. They were currently holed up in the man’s main offices, in the highest peak of the small building. Steaming cups of coffee sat before them, and Prompto spun on his chair idly. The secretary had tended to him with the utmost respect, and it had reminded him of perky Iris back in Lucis. Only Vyv’s secretary hadn’t been cheerful, and had regarded him like he was something unpleasant, despite her polite tone and demeanour.

It was all in the eyes. It always was. Disgust, dislike, pure and utter disdain. The eyes would always give them away, in Prompto’s opinion. No matter how nice a person may seem, Prompto could gauge their true feelings with a glance into their eyes. It was a skill he’d used to survive as a broken MT that was generally hated by most of the populace.

“I did a spread on the past of Lucis, once. An acquaintance of mine managed to dreg up some old records in one of the government’s offices. They referred to the city as ‘Insomnia’.”

_Ardyn would have known that. I wonder why he didn’t tell me…_

_Am I ever going to have the chance to ask? I **promised** him I’d be back…_

But Prompto didn’t feel ready. Not yet. He couldn’t face the people in the palace after his undignified exit. Not until he was confident enough to handle the ridicule and insults. _Especially_ if he’d be staying in the castle for some time. It was bound to be overwhelming, even with Ardyn’s doubtless lingering.

He’d been spending the majority of the month researching in libraries. Predictably, the books on general display did not hold anything of value to Prompto. He wanted tomes and papers on curses, gods, _magic_ , and of course, **_breaking spells._** All subjects which were forbidden in the civilian section. Prompto found this rather unfair, but protesting to the librarian had only had him thrown out on more than one occasion. Apparently it was some kind of law, put into place by the current ruling government.

Travelling to Altissia yielded similar results, although Prompto had only been threatened with expulsion from the extensive premises when he’d inquired about the forbidden subjects.

Ardyn had been right about the time limit required for accessing the restricted section. The finicky librarian had handed him an absurdly long application form when he inquired, and it had grilling questions Prompto wouldn’t even know _how_ to answer. He understood why they might be curious about his heritage, but wanting to know _everything_ about him? It even asked his blood type! Which, of course, he didn’t know. He’d never been to a real doctor or hospital before. He hadn’t needed the services, since Ardyn was such a competent healer. Prompto often wondered why the man didn’t practice in medicine. It would have paid a lot better than artistry that was for certain…

Regardless of Ardyn’s life decisions and Prompto’s attempts, here he was now, lacking knowledge, and no closer to discovering how to break the curse then when he’d first ran from the castle. He’d at least wanted to make a little progress, even if he only learned a little about magic lore. It would at least be _something_ to cling onto.

Prompto needed hope.

He _survived_ on hope. Without it, he felt himself falling into a deeper state of depression with each passing day, and he had no one to help him get better. No support pillars to cheer him up or confide in. Sure, he could have tried Cindy, but Prompto thought it would be awkward. _Vyv_ certainly wasn’t an option, he didn’t even want to _know_ about Prompto’s personal life. He was only interested in Prompto’s talents as a photographer. The only time he’d ask questions about Prompto’s wellbeing would be if his mental state began effecting his work, and even then, he wouldn’t want all of the important details.

_I’m alone. **Completely** alone again. _

He wanted so badly to blame the Lucian prince. He wished he could bitterly scorn Noctis, and believe that the other male was the sole reason for his current predicament.

But it wasn’t true. Prompto couldn’t deceive himself. _He’d_ been the stubborn one who had insisted on investigating the castle. _He’d_ been the one that allowed Ardyn to tag along like he was a child, and _he’d_ been the person who worsened Ardyn’s situation by acting like a silly love-struck girl. There may have been other factors, but there was no denying that Prompto had put himself in this situation. The prince hadn’t invited him. He hadn’t imprisoned Ardyn. And when the time came, he hadn’t forced Prompto to stay, like he easily could have done if he so desired. If would have been easy for the man to keep Prompto captive, to try and _force_ him into loving him. To pull some Stockholm Syndrome shit that a weak moron like Prompto would likely fall into.

Perhaps Prompto was stronger than he gave himself credit for. Perhaps his self-confidence issues were overshadowing his true capabilities, and perhaps he actually _did_ have some worth, but…

Without someone to remind him, to reassure him, his self-esteem was disappearing entirely. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly alone in the world, and it was an awful feeling. One Prompto wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. Loneliness was its own kind of unique torture. The pain may not have been physical, but the mental anguish was torture enough. Ardyn was not dead, but it felt that way to Prompto. Especially since the man couldn’t contact him via some form of technology. The man had never been great at operating modern appliances (calling them ‘blasted contraptions’ many times) but he at least knew how to text, even if the format was bad and his spelling suffered from his inability to use the screen properly. He could call, as well, although he messaged more often than not. 

Without the steady contact he had come to rely on, Prompto felt lost. His sense of belonging was absent. He felt he’d never regain it again. That he was doomed to be misplaced in this world…

“The time-stamp on these indicates you were at the castle a while ago. Were you camping there all this time?” Vyv’s voice is dubious, and Prompto knows lying is pointless. Besides, as a freelance worker, he had no time-constraints in delivering his work. It could be done at his own discretion, whenever he found it most convenient. “Or were you just busy elsewhere?”

Prompto was under no obligation to answer, but he found ignoring the man exceptionally rude, even if he didn’t feel like talking currently. “Yeah.” Prompto affirmed. It was the truth. He’d been busy scouring libraries and archives for information on Lucis, and curses. Even if he _was_ procrastinating on delivering the photographs, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been occupied since his return. “As a matter of fact,” He went on. “ _I’ve_ been trying to research into Lucis, as well.”

Vyv didn’t seem surprised. “I’d expect no less, since you visited the place yourself.” He munched on a handful of Gysahl Greens chips, crumbs falling onto the keyboard. “Did you manage to find anything useful?”

“Nope.” Prompto admitted dejectedly. “And I don’t think I’ll get clearance to explore the restricted section, either. Apparently you have to be a member of government or respected scholar to even have a small chance.” He’d gathered this through reading the log that listed the visitors into the hidden sections over the last five or so years. Nearly all of the people had been high-standing politicians, with the exception of a few journalists. It made him wonder… “The guy you mentioned,” He began slowly. “The one who rummaged around a government office-“

“He’s of the firm opinion that the truth shouldn’t be censored from the masses. Our history should be easily accessible for everyone.”

“And I agree.” Prompto nodded, adopting a wheedling demeanour. “This acquaintance…is he still around? If he is, I’d like to speak with him.”

Vyv chortled at this. “Kid, this guy’s been out of the journalist game for some time. He owns a jewellery store now. I don’t think he’ll want to complicate his new life by talking about Lucis _. Especially_ by speaking with someone who’s involved with a media publication.”

Prompto raised an eyebrow, and felt remarkably like Ardyn with the action. “Who said I wanted to speak with him on the behalf of a media publication?”

Vyv looked up from his work, regarding him with surprise. “What for, then?”

“Personal interests.”

“Why the sudden interest?”

_I can’t tell him the truth. He’ll think I’m crazy._

“A new hobby.” Prompto lied. “After visiting that castle, I feel a true passion for history. It was just so…” He trailed off, trying to find the correct word.

_Dark. Dangerous. **Scary.**_

“Interesting.” He finished. It _was_ the truth, at least. “I _need_ to learn more. It’s this burning desire….you know?” He finished, a little lacklustre.

Apparently he wasn’t being convincing enough, as Vyv snorted. “I’ve seen you passionate before, Prompto. About photography, about video games, even about spicy foods when we had takeout that one time. But history? I can’t help but be a little sceptical.”

Prompto frowned, with a small pout. “Ouch.” He may not have been scholarly, but he was still intelligent enough. Ardyn had seen to that. The man had been a stern teacher throughout his home-education. Maybe he came across as a ditsy blond? It was probably because he smiled so much…

“But I don’t care about your motives. So long as you continue delivering your pictures, I can do you this favour. You deserve it after the risk you took to get these.” Briefly, Vyv averted his eyes from the laptop screen, rummaging in a draw to bring up a small notepad and pen. He scrawled on the paper messily, and handed it to Prompto. Printed on the surface, was a sole name.

“Dino Ghiranze?” Prompto read aloud.

“Yes. Real shrewd guy. I think you’ll like him.”

Prompto flipped the note over. “No address?”

“I don’t know where he lives, but he does have a store in Altissia. You should find it easily enough if you catch a ferry over. The display has the most beautiful jewels you’ll ever see.”

_Every jewellery shop in Altissia is beautiful, how will I be able to tell his apart?_

But Prompto didn’t complain. It was kind of Vyv to help him. The man was under no obligation to do so, and it was a slight betrayal of trust that he was even offering this Dino man’s identity to Prompto. No doubt the former journalist wouldn’t be happy about the leaking of his identity. He’d probably made a fine life for himself as a jeweller. _Especially_ one who sold their creations in Altissia, where nearly every woman seemed to have jewels and gems strung around their necks and wrists. It was a great source of income for the wealthy area. 

“I really appreciate this.” Prompto said thankfully, slipping the note into his pocket, and jumping up from his seat. “But I should be going now. It’s getting late…”

Vyv looked out the high-rising window, to the sunny world below. “It’s not even dark yet.” He stated, somewhat confusedly.

“I know, but I want to catch a ferry before service ends for the day. I’ll need to clean out my caravan and tell Cindy the rental will be parked in Galdin Quay whilst I’m gone.”

“Well you _are_ eager. Off you go, then. You’re no use hovering around here aimlessly. My secretary will have your gil. The payment is rather substantial this time. Spend it wisely.”

Prompto bowed his head politely. “Thank you. I’ll see you next time, Vyv. Save me an issue when they get printed out.” But Vyv didn’t reply, concentrating on his photoshop work. Prompto’s photographs didn’t really need re-touching, but Vyv always edited them anyway. “Oh, and by the way,” He continued playfully, when the man didn’t even blink. “I’m taking my work to a rival business!” When Vyv didn’t react, he tried once more. “Your publication sucks, anyway!” Then, because Prompto wasn’t one to give up, “My next project will be nude photographs. Do you think the subjects should be between the ages of forty upwards? Or sixty? I’m interested to know how gravity works in that regard…”

_This_ had Vyv spluttering. “W-what the hell are you talking about!?”

Prompto smiled cheekily, and gave a short wave. “See ya!”

“Prompto, you better be joking-“

Prompto ran from the room with a laugh, feeling light-hearted for the first time since he’d left the palace. Papa would be most amused when Prompto told him about this…

**_If_** he got to tell him about this. Who knew what had been done to the man whilst he was alone in that terrible castle…

_No. I have to stay optimistic. If I don’t, I’ll give up. **I can’t** give up. _

With a wavering smile, Prompto stopped by the secretary’s desk. The woman was idly filing her nails, and jolted when Prompto appeared quietly, startling her. She flushed at being caught neglecting her job, and hastily slipped the file up her sleeve. “Good afternoon, sir. How can I be of assistance? Do you require a beverage?” From her scornful eyes, Prompto could tell the woman’s skin was crawling from assisting someone ‘like him’.

There was a reason he continuously failed to hold down steady jobs. Even if he won over a manager, there was still a suspicious boss and disdainful colleagues to contend with. This was why he usually operated in private, his photographs displayed with a pseudonym to disguise his identity from the disapproving public. Vyv was different, in that regard. He didn’t care about Prompto’s past. He only wanted to exploit his talents. In the… _nicest_ possible manner.

“Vyv said you have something for me.” Prompto reminded, tapping on her desk. Like the rest of the building, her work station was ornate and decorated classically. It was a world away from the steely professionalism Prompto had come to associate with workplaces in this industry.

The secretary gripped the edge of a small potted plant, moving it away from Prompto, as if he may poison it by his proximity alone. “Of course.” She practically simpered, with a faux smile. “I’ll just remove your payment from the safe. If you would please wait here whilst I fetch it…” Her kitten heels clacked on the floorboards as she stood, brushing down her blouse. She was an attractive woman, if not a little old for Prompto, but his heart belonged to Noctis…

Wait…

**_NOCTIS!?_ ** _No, I **definitely** meant Cindy! There’s no way I can have a crush on that guy!_

Yet there was no denying the way his heart raced whenever he thought of the other male, nor was it possible to overlook the sticky mess between his legs when he woke up each morning. The bastard haunted his dreams as well! Appearing in the most inappropriate of circumstances. Circumstances which had Prompto moaning in his short-lived sleep. It was like puberty all over again! Only this time he was fortunate not to have Ardyn pointedly washing his sheets in the morning. _That_ had been downright mortifying. It was no wonder he’d been eager to strike out on his own. _No_ teenager wanted to share quarters with their parent all of the time. It was awkward.

Although scrubbing his sheets and boxers each morning _was_ a tiresome chore…

It was probably better than Ardyn trying to give him an archaic form of ‘The Talk’. _That_ was one experience Prompto **_never_** wanted to re-visit.

Prompto huffed, irritated. Once more, he lamented his foolishness in venturing into the newly identified ‘Insomnia’. Ever since leaving the place, his emotions had been unpredictable, and he felt ashamed whenever he found his thoughts wandering to Noctis…

_I **hate** him. I’m **not** attracted to him. _

“Here is your payment, Mr Argentum.” The secretary had returned, and she handed him a small coin-purse, mindful that her fingers never once came into contact with Prompto’s hand. Even then, she wiped it rather obviously on the bottom of her blouse. “I hope you find it sufficient. It must be hard budgeting, considering your lack of concrete employment…”

Prompto idly tossed the coin-purse up in the air, but not even the merry jingling of gil clinking together was enough to lift his spirits. He didn’t have the spirit to smile at her, to win in their interaction by not showing his hurt or annoyance. Instead, he gave her a short nod, turning on his heel and stalking to the elevator. He jabbed the down button with more force than necessary, and heard her murmur something about ‘violent Niflheim types’.

He rode downwards with prickling eyes, and upon exiting the building (attaining suspicious looks from those working in the lobby) he took a deep, shuddering breath.

_I can do this. I **can’t** give up. _

He pulled out the slip of paper from his pocket, where Vyv had scribbled the name in messy, half-hearted handwriting.

Dino Ghiranze, Artisan 

_Alright Dino Ghiranze, you better be prepared to talk._

* * *

 

A quick search online managed to help Prompto find the establishment owned by this ‘Dino Ghiranze’. It seemed he was a rather renowned jeweller, with glowing reviews posted online about his service. Prompto couldn’t find a picture of the place, nor an address, but a relatively informative description helped him find his way. The store was nestled between a dress shop and a fancy café, and the walkway was brimming with tourists and locals alike, peering in windows with wide, awed eyes. They gave Prompto uneasy looks as he strode between them, and he became aware of his dishevelled appearance. He hadn’t brushed his hair in days, let alone _styled_ it, and he’d been wearing the same set of clothes for three days straight. He looked ruffled, unrefined, and _completely_ unlike the well-dressed people of Altissia.

When he came to the stylish entrance to **Dino’s Jeweller** , he hesitated. Through the window displays he saw beautiful glittering gems, in the form of many types of jewellery. A couple of women tittered over a pair of sapphire earrings, and a man squinted at the high price of a diamond ring. The interior of the shop was as crowded as the outside, and Prompto had to squeeze in. It was high-ceilinged, and the chandeliers inside made him squint.

_How have I never noticed this place before? It’s probably because I never have enough gil to browse in this part of Altissia…_

A sturdy doorman eyeballed him scrutinisingly, and Prompto raised his hands, to show he wasn’t carrying a weapon to perform a heist. He imagined attempts were made here quite often, considering the high-quality of the gems…

“Oh Mother, isn’t this golden bangle simply gorgeous?” A little girl breathed, pressing her nose against the glass of another display cabinet. “And it’s half-price!”

Prompto read the price, and grimaced.

_If that’s discounted, I’d hate to see full-priced items._

With the crowd, it was hard for Prompto to navigate the room, and reaching the counter was almost impossible considering the queue. He could barely glimpse a few members of staff, but all of them seemed to be female, and according to his sources, Dino was male…

_Is he out for a break? It’s getting late, how long are their business hours?_

Either way, there was no point loitering in such a place. Likely he’d be thrown out. It was obvious he couldn’t afford even the cheapest item of jewellery, and the security personnel probably thought he was casing the place for a robbery…

  _I guess I’ll try and eat something, and come back later._

Prompto’s appetite had been sparse since returning from the palace, but perhaps he could manage something particularly delicious from Maagho.

 

* * *

 

“Are you Dino Ghiranze?” Prompto’s asking this as he’s clutched by a beefy security guard, who had tried to forcibly ‘escort him’ from the premises upon his return. Apparently it was closing time, but Prompto had no intention on waiting another day to speak with the former journalist. A month had already passed by. Ardyn couldn’t wait any longer.

Besides, this may be his only chance to get Dino alone. Said man was clothed in a snazzy, fashionable suit, with a pair of studded diamond earrings twinkling on his ears.

To his benefit, he didn’t appear fearful of Prompto, although his eyes certainly darted to the wristband covering Prompto’s barcode. The experiments committed by the imperials were common knowledge now, and it was easy enough to detect one. _Especially_ if you were a clever scholar or a crafty journalist. “That’s me.” The man confirmed, in a strangely accented tone. He angled Prompto a white grin. “ _Dino Ghiranze, Altissia Artisan._ Receiver of the coveted craftsmanship award for five years in a row, and renowned for receiving the most positive customer feedback in all of Altissia.”

“That’s quite impressive.” Prompto said, honestly. The man had a lot of titles to his name, which spoke volumes of his dedication to his trade. Prompto could respect that. “Although I hear you used to have a former profession that was just as well-regarded for its integrity.”

Dino’s eyes flashed, and he gestured for the guard to release Prompto.

The muscled man did so with a grunt, and moved back to his position at the door, nonverbally obeying his employer without a single murmur of dissent for the man’s safety. After all, Prompto may not look like much, but he was still clearly _different_ from everyone else. And not in a good way.

“I’ve never been one for prejudice.” Dino’s levity faded into something more serious. “It was one of the reasons why I found the media so exhausting. They were always so keen to target minorities, or people that were _different._ So often they twisted the truth, disregarding facts for their own benefit. Such sensationalism left me disenchanted.”

_He’s…such an independent thinker. Unlike so many other journalists and reporters._

“Sure, I played the game. I wrote more than a few poorly sourced articles to keep my job, mostly about celebrities and political figures, but it never sat right with me, y’know? Ah, but I’m rambling, aren’t I? That isn’t why you’re here, is it?”

Prompto slowly shook his head.

 Dino nodded, pleased with his correct deduction. “Come with me. We can talk somewhere more private.” Without waiting for a reply, he strode confidently behind the counter.

After a moment, Prompto followed. The man unlocked a sturdy door with a key-card, and it swung open, revealing a storage room, equipped with a desk, computer, and small bar.

It was to the bar that Dino headed, procuring a bottle of vodka. He carefully went about the process of making a couple of martinis, and Prompto sat on one of the shiny stools, looking down at the handsome surface of the bar. It appeared freshly lacquered, and Prompto reasoned that the man must have had a fondness for the structure.

“Here.” Dino said, pushing a glass to Prompto.

The blond squinted at it suspiciously, hearing Ardyn’s voice drawl in his head. (“Never drink something prepared by a stranger who knows your true heritage. It could be poison.”)

_I always thought he was just being overprotective, but perhaps he was right…_

Noticing Prompto’s hesitation, the man poured himself a glass from the same mixture, taking a small sip to sooth the younger man’s worries.

Prompto shot him a thankful smile, and took a gulp. Immediately, he grimaced. It had a strong, alcoholic taste, undisguised by any other flavours. He picked up the olive, and sucked on it to rid his mouth of the horrible taste.

Dino laughed at the expression Prompto pulled. “You’re quite young, aren’t you, kid? What’s your name? I want to be properly introduced to the boy bold enough to ignore my security guard.”

“Prompto Argentum.” Prompto saw no need to lie. The man had been nothing but hospitable to him since their meeting. “I turn twenty in October.”

“You look a little younger than that.”

_That’s what Papa always says…_

Prompto shrugged, chewing the olive slowly, giving himself time to think of how to approach Dino about his past actions. He didn’t want to appear accusatory…

“So who sent you?”

Prompto blanched at the sudden question, choking on his mouthful of olive. He hacked, banging on his chest, and winced when he finally managed to swallow. “W-what?” He spluttered.

Dino blinked at him slowly, unaffected by Prompto’s undignified display. “There’s only a small group of people who knew about my operations in Lucis. Every now and again someone wanders in here curious about the crown prince.”

“Wait, you actually _went_ to Lucis?” Prompto was surprised. Vyv hadn’t told him that…

“Ah, so it was _Vyv_ who sent you. I never told him I actually _went_ to Lucis. We collaborated on a piece about its past, once. Nothing particularly special. Just statistics, mostly. I’m taking it you’re here to get a little glory for yourself? Or perhaps you’re desperate to meet the prince, like the others who sought me out.”

The familiarity in which Dino spoke of the prince intrigued Prompto.

_Is it possible he’s met Noctis before? He **did** go to Insomnia…_

Prompto took a deep breath, preparing himself for a sceptical reaction. “I’ve already met him.” He told bluntly. “I went to the castle to try and take photographs of the rumoured beast that lurked within, and met the _true_ inhabitants.”

“Is that so? Well, who _else_ did you meet?”

_Shrewd indeed. He’s testing me._

“The first was Iris.”

_There’s no point lying. It’s obvious he’s met Noctis before._

“Then Gladiolus, then Ignis, then…” Prompto tried to recall the other two men in the kitchen, but couldn’t quite remember their names. “I ran into the prince.” He finished lamely. _“Literally.”_

“How did you find the crown prince?”

Prompto couldn’t help but scowl in distaste. “Moody. Rude. _Charmless_.”

There was a long pause, and momentarily Prompto wondered if he had offended the artisan, before Dino gave a loud laugh, clapping his hands together. “That sounds like Noctis, alright! He’s always so sullen!”

Prompto relaxed considerably. “So…you’ve met him as well?”

Dino drained the rest of his martini, before pouring himself another. He drummed his fingernails on the crystal glass, which glimmered under the warmly lit chandelier, clearly considering what to say next... “He’s a difficult guy, Prince Noctis.” He remarked eventually. “When I was starting out as a jeweller, I needed some beautiful pieces to impress investors. Any plain old gem wouldn’t do. So I went to Lucis, and broke into the palace to try and find something a little…different. I ran into a guy named Nyx before I even made it up the stairs. He took me before the prince, and I…managed to smooth-talk my way out of a beating. It seemed they’d been hoping the intruder was a little… _different_ to me. The prince called my voice ‘grating’ and told me I could stay one night before departing.”

“That was generous of him.” Prompto said caustically.

Dino raised his eyebrows. “I’m taking it your interactions with him were less amiable then. Hm. That’s a surprise. You seem _just_ like his type.”

Prompto flushed crimson at this, and willed his cheeks to cool down at Dino’s knowing look. “That **_isn’t_** why I’m here. I have no intention of marrying Prince Noctis.”

_In fact, I’d prefer to never see his stupidly handsome face again._

Dino appeared taken-aback by this. “That’s new. What _do_ you want then? If it isn’t fame or fortune?”

“To break the curse.” Prompto said starkly, clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palms. “Someone I care about has been caught up in it. They…can’t leave until it’s s _upposedly_ broken. I was wondering if any of your experiences could help me?”

O _ne night in the castle doesn’t sound promising, but maybe-_

“His majesty saw me off the next day, gave me a bag of raw diamonds and a _huge_ sapphire for my troubles. He told me never to return, of course, and when I asked him about the obvious curse, he told me…” Dino trailed off, upon seeing Prompto’s hopeful expression. It was clear the blond would be absolutely devastated with his truthful answer…

And this boy had been so _different_ from the rest. Since Dino’s return from Lucis, many foolish maidens flocked to the palace in hope of seducing the fabled prince, with even a few _men_ trying their luck! All of them had returned defeated, and Dino had heard tales prior to his departure from the chamberlain, about the dismal results of Noctis’s attempted romances with these people. Apparently they were all the same. Vain, foolish, and unable to see past Noctis’s handsome face to the real _person_ underneath. And when they did eventually find that true self…they didn’t like the fact that Noctis wasn’t a traditional prince.

Dino felt pity for the trapped prince, and all of his associates. He also felt indebted to them, considering it was their generosity that had helped him secure his first proper workshop and store. Without their help, he’d still be searching for the right jewels…

So he did something cruel, but also something that was a rather large gamble. If it paid-off, everyone would be happy, and he’d get to see that exquisite castle again…

If not, well, things would be no different. For _him_ , at least.

“That an answer might be recorded _somewhere_ in the library. It’s rather large though, and their research has yielded no results thus far. That said, it could still be there. With some investigating, you might find it…”

“Really!?” Prompto’s eyes were sparkling much like that blue sapphire Dino had been gifted. “Oh, thank you so much for telling me! I really needed to hear this!”

Dino managed a smile at the boy’s excitement.

He’d lied.

But if the odds were in his favour, Noctis would manage to woo Prompto before he searched the entirety of the huge library. The prince just had to be smart about it, and not contradict what little Dino _had_ told Prompto…

With his intelligent (and resourceful) chamberlain, Dino thought he could manage.

_Good luck, Prince Noctis,_ the man thought as Prompto babbled on excitedly. _You are going to need it._

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo, no Noctis this chapter :( Never fear though, he will return in the next one! 
> 
> This chapter might seem a little weird, but I needed a reason for Prompto to return to the palace that wasn't out of defeat. Let's see if Dino's story works out ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! 
> 
> (Please) Review if you would like. Also, thanks to everyone who continues to comment and leave Kudos! You guys are awesome!


	6. But we have to know some bad times, or our lives are incomplete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis wallows, Ardyn reminisces, and Prompto returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm aware that this is a little late, but my life has been pretty busy lately with work and other commitments. I also find that the longer you don't get to write, the harder it is to get going again. Hopefully I managed okay with this chapter. 
> 
> Please enjoy.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s been a month, Ignis!” Noctis huffed, pushing away the gourmet vegetable stew before him.

Ignis frowned at the predictable action. “You must eat your greens, Noctis. You need to keep fit and healthy for when Prompto returns.”

“Did you not just hear me?” Noctis is incredulous. _“It’s been a month._ He isn’t coming back!”

“There is no way to verify that completely.”

“Same goes for you, then!” Noctis retorted.

Patiently, Ignis prodded the silver bowl back before the prince. He straightened Noctis’s cutlery, and pointedly looked to the prince’s delectable main course and dessert, both of which were waiting on a platter for when Ignis deemed the prince ready to eat them.

AKA: When Noctis finally stopped being petulant and ate his vegetables the way a _grown man_ ought to. The prince had never outgrown his childish aversion to vegetables. Carrots, in particular. He still plugged his nose and gagged whenever Ignis forced him to eat them.

“The odds are in our favour.” Ignis continued, when Noctis turned a cheek to him stubbornly. “We currently have Ardyn incarcerated-“

“Incarcerated? He’s _trapped_ here with the rest of us! We aren’t holding him as leverage! And even if we were, the bastard told Prompto to never come back!”

“He has a point, Iggy.” Gladiolus spoke up. He’d been flipping through a novel in boredom, accustomed to Noctis’s griping about vegetables. He’d begun paying attention when the subject of Prompto arose. _Again._ Ever since the kid had paid his visit, Noctis was always moping about him. He was pitifully **_heartsick._** “That blondie is a total Daddy’s Boy. He won’t want to disobey Ardyn.”

Noctis shuddered, and it wasn’t from the proximity of freshly grown vegetables to his face. “Ew. Can you not call Prompto that, _ever again_? Or address Ardyn as _‘Daddy’_. It’s gross.” He gave another revolted shudder, just for theatrics sake, and Gladiolus smirked at the display. “Even grosser than when you two get all domestic…” Noctis went on, grimacing as he recalled the antics of his two friends. They were always holding hands, and pecking one another on the lips when they thought no one was watching. Not to mention when Noctis witnessed Gladiolus playfully smacking Ignis on the ass when he bent over in the kitchen the other day…

Noctis had made a pact to **_never_** think of the sultry words he’d heard exchanged between the pair on that particular occasion.

“You’re just jealous.” Gladiolus smirked, snapping the book shut and shelving it on the nearby bookcase.

They were currently in Noctis’s room, as the prince had refused to venture outside of his quarters for the better half of a month. They’d only _just_ managed to drag him down to the kitchen yesterday. Despite their prince’s distaste, the other occupants of the castle needed to glimpse their liege once in a while. It helped to stop their morale from dipping to dangerously low depths.

Besides, it was only a matter of time before Lunafreya sought him out anyhow. She was always concerned about her childhood friend, and unintentional captor. Not to mention Cor, who’s ‘Tough Love’ approach varied greatly from Gladiolus’s, and usually had negative repercussions for anyone involved.

It was one thing for Noctis to lose his father, but to watch his kingdom crumble away to nothing? Unable to venture far from the gates? To lose his subjects and have his station reduced to nothing but a foolish myth? It was hard. It was _harsh._ He’d always thought the God’s had more mercy than that…

And the living example that practically _screamed_ otherwise was currently stalking the castle like a caged beast, ravenous for easy prey.

“Of course I’m jealous!” Noctis readily admitted, foregoing his usual sullen huff. “I’ve been twenty one for years now, and I still don’t have someone to share my life with!”

Gladiolus’s teasing demeanour faded at Noctis’s uncharacteristic honesty, and he appeared awkward, lightly grimacing under Ignis’s accusatory glare. “Patience, buddy. The right person will come along.”

This time, Noctis stood from his seat altogether, storming from the table and flopping onto his bed in annoyed defeat.

“Twenty one?” Gladiolus couldn’t help but remark. “Are you sure you aren’t perpetually stuck in your teen years? Seriously, Noct. _You’re an adult_ , act like one.”

“Gladio.” Ignis is angling him a deadly expression, eyes glinting behind his spectacles. “ _You are not helping_.”

Gladiolus raises his hands with a grumble. “Fine. I’ll shut up.” Leaning down, he scooped up the linens Ignis had managed to strip from Noctis’s bed when the prince rose for his meal. “I’ll take his majesty’s linen to the laundry. I’m sure Crowe will be bored enough to scrub them.” Not having functioning washing machines and dryers sure was a bother. Not for Gladio, fortunately. Ignis found his household help ‘hazardous’ and had forbade him from contributing to chores. This _may_ have also been because the two were tempted into sensuous activities when alone together in quiet spaces…

The washing machines may not have functioned anymore, but Gladio could certainly use them to his benefit when Ignis was around. The lithe man fitted _perfectly_ when draped over the gleaming surface…

Noctis mumbled something incomprehensible into his pillow, and Gladiolus rolled his eyes, barely refraining from making a sharp comment.

Ignis, however, understood sulky prince talk. He’d been hearing it since he’d first started watching over Noctis as a teenager himself, struggling to balance his chamberlain duties whilst supervising the young prince. “His Highness says Madam Crowe will likely be in the training yard with Libertus. Take care not to startle them.” Then, the man cleared his throat, when Gladio didn’t immediately take his leave. “I will see you after the prince has finished his supper.” He said this decisively, and thinned his lips at the cooling soup. “ _All_ of it.” He tutted when Noctis began muttering into the pillow, and Gladio spared a moment to press a small kiss to Ignis’s brow.

_“You are an angel.”_ He rasped against his skin.

Ignis gave a slim smile in response. _“Go.”_ He mouthed, and watched as Gladiolus strode confidently from the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Then, Ignis allowed himself a sigh. Doing so in Gladio’s presence would only serve in making the man irate with Noctis, and life was never good when the two were angry at one another. As a matter of fact, it was **_horrible._** Ignis hated being caught between the man he loved, and the man he had helped raise. Their quarrels usually resolved themselves though, typically after Ignis had lost his patience with their antics. “Noct,” Ignis addressed, in a perfectly calm voice. “Please return to the table. I don’t want to get cross with you.” When Noctis didn’t resurface, he rolled his own eyes. No one was around to witness his small slip-up, after all. “Iris tended to those carrots with the utmost tenacity. Do you wish to disappoint her?”

“But I hate carrots.” Noctis whined, appearing rather ridiculous from where Ignis was standing, tapping his polished shoes expectantly. “ _You_ know that. _She_ knows that.”

“This isn’t about carrots, is it.” Ignis stated. He knew Noctis’s vegetable incited tantrums, and this one was a tad dramatic, even for him. He also noted Noctis’s reaction to Gladio’s usual teasing. It appeared the visit of that golden haired boy had made him vulnerable…

A good _and_ bad thing.

When Noctis was unresponsive, Ignis continued. “Come now, I am your _confidant_ , Noctis. It is my sworn duty to be there for you in your times of need.”

Noctis pulled away from the pillow, hair mussed and face red from being smothered. “I meant what I said. About being alone.”

Ignis felt a surge of sympathy for the young man, and lapsed from his professional demeanour. He sat on the edge of the sizeable bed, and patted the spot aside him. “Come. Sit. We need to talk.”

“We _are_ talking.”

“You know what I mean.”

With a grunt, Noctis shuffled over, plopping beside Ignis gracelessly.

Carefully, Ignis placed a hand on Noctis’s shoulder. The other male hadn’t shrugged him off for some time, but he could vividly recall the other’s violent reactions to contact when his father had died. The companionable action had sent him into a devastated rage. Now though, his shoulder only shuddered tiredly under the touch.

Tired. Noctis _always_ seemed tired. Tired with _life._ Tired with his lack of success in the romantic department.

“Love,” Ignis started, speaking soothingly. “Is never easy. Nor can it be forced, as I’m sure you have come to realise, with your past experiences.”

Noctis winced. “It isn’t just with Luna, Ignis. I wanted to love the others who came, but I couldn’t even make myself _like_ them. I couldn’t make them love me, either. I tried so hard. I’m…I’m a _failure.”_

Anger simmered inside of Ignis, and he squeezed Noctis’s shoulder harder. “Don’t you **_dare_** say that, Noctis Lucis Caelum. You are _The Chosen King._ The only king that is left! Have you considered that those who came in the past were unworthy of your affections? _I_ certainly wouldn’t have selected them as a match! They were all self-centred. You need someone who isn’t merely infatuated by your family name.”

“And you think Prompto is that guy?” Noctis’s voice was both hopeful, and sardonic. It was evident the prince hadn’t given up yet. Not _completely._

This encouraged Ignis. A dejected Noctis he could deal with. A completely defeated one, however… “I know he is.” Ignis uttered, with the utmost certainty. “Although I loath to sound cliché, I fully believe he is ‘the one’.” He left the, _he has to be the one_ left unsaid. He had an inkling that Noctis didn’t wish to be reminded of their time-limit. Besides, romance couldn’t be rushed too much. He’d learnt that from his dealings with Gladiolus. “That Prompto fellow is unlike anyone we’ve ever met before, and that meets with Gentiana’s guidelines. You also appear to be rather fond of the boy.” When Noctis blushed, Ignis smiled softly. Finally, the boy was beginning to develop true feelings for someone. A crush. A _real_ crush. They’d been waiting for so long…

“He’s different.” Noctis murmured, a small grin tugging at his lips. “And bright. And funny, and…” He trailed off, and Ignis quirked a brow.

“And?”

“Beautiful!” Noctis breathed. “His golden hair, those eyes…did you notice they have a hint of violet in them? Those freckles are so adorable, and his laugh, man, his laugh…” Noctis gave a heart-struck sigh. “It makes me feel so darn happy, y’know? And his smile lights up the whole room…”

Ignis gave a wry laugh. “Highness, I fear you need some remedial lessons in literacy. You sound like one of Gladio’s soppy romance novels.”

“Do not!” Noctis protested indignantly. “That’s…just how I feel.”

_Immature in the ways of love,_ Ignis thought with dismayed humour. _He will **definitely** need some coaching in the ways of courting. _

Now all they had to do was wait for Prompto’s return, and _prepare._ The castle needed to be _perfect._ Worthy of not only a prince, but a…

Princess?

Would Prompto be a _princess_ now?

Ignis doubted Ardyn would approve.

Either way, they had to tread with care from here on out…

 

* * *

 

The man of no consequence once met a boy of no consequence.

He was a premature, sickly thing, so unlike the other creations that had been experimented on.

The boy’s father, a relic in the new Niflheim, had never abandoned his passion of manufacturing MT’s, something Ardyn had found both amusing and pathetic. Times had changed, the emperor was _gone_ , and all of the formerly booming laboratories were steadily closing down underneath the tenure of new leadership. Admittedly, this had disappointed Ardyn, somewhat.

Their experiments with daemons had advanced their knowledge on the world considerably. It was a shame to put all of that time and effort to waste. Alas, the world had been changing, and such experimentation was deemed ‘cruel’ and ‘dangerous’ even by their benefactor: The Empire.

Ardyn had long grown bored with the empire, but he had still been curious to know what had become of the experiments. _Especially_ the more promising ones. So, he’d sought out one of the sparser facilities. One, that, in its time, had been rather poorly funded compared to its counterparts.

As he’d expected, Verstael had been there, still going about his business like there wasn’t an entire _government_ out for his head. Ardyn had greeted him with his usual flamboyance, and had been allowed a reluctant tour of Verstael’s new home. He used the term ‘home’ loosely, as the man lived in a cold, clinical environment, even bunking in his workshop alongside his tools and notes. Nothing particularly ground-breaking had been occurring, and Ardyn had been contemplating killing the man, merely to spare himself the trouble that would come of Verstael’s inevitable interrogation, when he’d been introduced to that boy of no consequence.

“It’s useless.” Verstael had sneered, holding the baby with little delicacy. The skinny infant had hung awkwardly, and Ardyn had been reminded of his former healing years, when the starscourge had begun infecting the young, and the mother’s had practically hurled their babies at him desperately, begging for his help. He’d used to feel dutiful tenderness then, now though…

Nothing. Perhaps a small amount of pity, when he noticed its filthy state. “Hmm.” He’d hummed, not bothering to hide his disinterest. He’d turned instead to a row of metal cribs, where healthier, more advanced babies were blinking upwards. That other baby was _indeed_ a failure. Too human to make a _proper_ MT.

“It’s my son.”

Ardyn blinked in faint surprise, and turned back around. There was no hint of regret in Verstael, only disgust and disappointment. None of the vanity Ardyn would expect from the man. “Oh?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows. His eyes flickered downwards to the baby once more. Despite its distressing position, the thing had yet to emit a single noise, and Ardyn noted the sex organ on display. “A baby boy.” He observed. “I suppose congratulations are in order?”

Verstael scoffed, unamused. “He is my blood. My _biological_ offspring. Yet he is malfunctioned…” He squeezed the boy’s ankle, and the baby finally let out a pained whine. “He is worthless. There is no _point_ to his existence.” Verstael swung sharply, and the baby barely avoided being bludgeoned by a nearby desk.

Despite himself, Ardyn couldn’t help but grimace at the sight. He may have been a monster, but even _he_ wasn’t immune to seeing infants harmed in such a casual manner. Babies were born innocent. A clean-slate. They hadn’t been corrupted with sin, and other ugly emotions, as they would as they gradually grew. “Those babies over yonder,” Ardyn gestured to the cribs. “Would he mayhaps grow with them? It might be useful to compare him with the more…successful experiments.”

Verstael didn’t even bother pretending to consider what Ardyn had recommended. His face was curled in an ugly frown, and his shoulders stiff. It was clear he didn’t like Ardyn giving him suggestions in his own facility. A facility, Ardyn might add, _he_ had been responsible for funding. The foolish old man would be better falling to his knees and _grovelling_ for mercy…

But Verstael had always been single-minded. Ever focused on the expansion of his own knowledge. It was what the man _lived_ for. Ardyn was positively baffled as to how that baby had even been procreated…

“Even if I had the patience to let this wretch live, he’d never survive with the others. They’re all _far_ superior to him. As they grew, he’d just be an eyesore. A loner. Ironically enough, they’d probably think **_he’s_** the _monster.”_

Ardyn felt something alien (but not unfamiliar) tug in his chest, and he frowned, brow furrowing as he watched the weeping infant. “Have you named him, at least?” He hadn’t meant to ask the suspiciously personal question, but the words had flooded from his mouth before he could stop them.

“Of course not!” Verstael proclaimed angrily. “Chancellor Izunia, this line of question is preposterous! This _thing_ , he is **_of no consequence_**!”

And then Ardyn felt something much more familiar. Something that flooded his veins often, and he felt his lips pull back, a strikingly white baring of teeth masqueraded as a smirk. “I see.” His voice was deceptively well-humoured. “Of course, you are right. A failed MT has no place inside of this laboratory.”

Verstael bobbed his head in hard agreement. “Indeed.”

Ardyn took a step, his boots squeaking on the clean tiles. Then another, until he was striding around Verstael, a predator circling its oblivious prey. His narrowed eyes remained fixed on the baby still dangling precariously in the air. “You however,” He spoke airily, and held back a sinister laugh when the man turned to follow him. “You have your place inside a laboratory, don’t you? You _always_ have. You were the highest ranking scientist in Niflheim once. A distinguished title given after years of dedication to your field.” His voice has turned syrupy now, and Verstael would be a fool not to notice the venom beginning to seep into the edges of Ardyn’s body.

“Chancellor-“

“Ah, ah, ah.” Ardyn tutted, wagging a finger in correction. “I am no longer a chancellor, Verstael. And _you_ are no longer my subordinate. You are a man wanted for numerous crimes and offenses. The Empire has _much_ mopping up to do, even now, and you will make a fine scapegoat. The finest yet, I believe.”

“If I go down.” Verstael started, and there was a hint of nervousness in his tone. “So do you.” His eyes moved shiftily, trying to keep his focus on Ardyn.

“I’m afraid not.” And Ardyn did sound falsely apologetic, as well. “You see, someone like myself, over time, has learnt how to become _a man of no consequence._ I have become a humble citizen since the fall of our former emperor, whilst you have only developed your notoriety by refusing to adhere to the new laws of this country. Oh no, Verstael. If you do, as you so eloquently put it, ‘go down’, I will not be joining you in the deep, dark depths of torture and execution.”

“Execution? Surely there will be a trial-“

Ardyn had gotten into his head already. The man had started conceding defeat without consciously acknowledging it. How fun it was to toy with this mulish scientist. “It would be a shame to separate you from this place. You love it so dearly, after all. I think, as old compatriots, it is only merciful that I do you this favour.”

Verstael outright gulped, and his voice quavered. “W-what favour?”

Ardyn held out his hands beamingly. “It is beneath you to dispose of such a poor test subject. How about I take the lad off your hands, and dispose of him in your steed? You _are_ his papa after all.”

Obediently, Verstael shoved the baby carelessly to Ardyn, mouthing the word ‘Papa’ in befuddlement. It was odd to hear the former chancellor use such a common word. He was usually so flowery when he spoke.

Ardyn accepted the baby with a practiced care that had come from handling infants in his former life as a healer. He expertly cradled the child, supporting its fragile skull, and ignored the stench that came with the baby’s unwashed flesh. Likely Verstael hadn’t even bothered to scrub off its sticky afterbirth. The poor thing didn’t even have any clothing to warm its chilled body…

And, more unpleasantly, no towelling around its lower half to catch urine or excrement. Perhaps it wasn’t an issue, considering how malnourished the child was…

Overall, the baby was drastically underweight, and suffering from a lack of hygiene. His skin was tinted with slight jaundice, but Ardyn could deal with that easily enough. It was other illnesses and infections he’d have to treat. Once he took the boy home, he could do a thorough examination to better gauge his overall health. It shouldn’t be an issue though. It may have been a while, but Ardyn was still a competent healer…

Wait… _home?_

Ardyn didn’t have a home. He was a drifter. A traveller. He’d been one before he’d been condemned by his brother, and he never planned to settle down and change that. That would mean becoming complacent, becoming accepting of his lot in life…

He couldn’t let that happen. He hadn’t given up on his revenge. It was merely undergoing a temporary reprieve. Soon enough, he would resume his plotting…

He had **_no_** home. No home to offer this repulsive infant. If he didn’t abandon it in the snow outside, he’d drop it at an orphanage. The least crowded one he could find, as he was sure it required special care if it were to survive. Ardyn could see the boy was a fighter (he had to be, to survive the pitiful treatment he’d been given) but even the most tenacious of fighters would fall eventually, _especially_ the more vulnerable ones.

“How will you kill him?”

Ardyn shrugged, and couldn’t help but shush the baby when it cried at the unfamiliar hands. Its eyes slowly parted, revealing the purest of blues, the colour of a clear sky. The longer Ardyn looked, however, the more he could see a tint of violet. It was a beautiful colour, and once the boy was scrubbed, Ardyn was sure he would have golden hair…

A sky was nothing without the sun. This boy _needed_ to see the sun.

“What’s his name?” Ardyn ignored the question, and saw his own face reflected in the wide orbs of the child. The expression he was wearing both frightened, and astounded him. When was the last time he’d seen such a tender look on his own face? When was the last time he’d felt this alien warmth in his chest? What was it about this dirty infant that made him feel something _other_ than resentment and bitterness? He felt, uncharacteristically, _hapless._

“He has no name. Only a barcode.”

Ardyn doubted that. A vain man like Verstael would have planned to name his own spawn, before the child had been deemed a failure. If the man didn’t want to answer though, Ardyn wouldn’t force him. Verstael had no right to give the boy a name. Ardyn would do that _himself._  He _deserved_ it.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t kill him in a messy manner. I want to dissect his corpse, to see what went wrong in his conception.”

Ardyn contemplated making a crude comment here, but knew doing such a thing was beneath him. “What of his mother?” He inquired. “Is she still alive?”

“She died. Complications in childbirth.” Verstael answered, utterly uncaring. “I picked her for her attractiveness, you know. She was the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Even lovelier than the lost Lady Lunafreya. It’s a pity the boy was a failure, he’d have grown up quite beautiful.”

Ardyn knew that their lovemaking was perhaps far from completely consensual, but didn’t push the matter. After all, why should he care? She was just another selfish human. Likely she’d been paid for her services after, and been aware of what would be done to her baby upon delivering it. If she cared the slightest for the child, she would have fled Niflheim. In a blizzard, if she had to. Anything to keep her baby safe from Verstael. In all of his years, Ardyn had glimpsed parents with that much dedication. The boy’s mother clearly wasn’t one of them. Once more, he remembered, that beauty was not always in cohorts with kindness.

“Although he’d probably make a good pleasure slave. Or a whore. If the new government wasn’t so strict on human trafficking, I could have sold him for a sizeable price to expand the laboratory. It will be needing it, in a few years…”

Verstael was in denial. As secluded as the facility was, it would be discovered within the year. If not only a few more months. Not to mention, his research was no longer required _or_ wanted. It was, quite truthfully…

“All for naught.” Ardyn said, amusedly. He halted his pacing completely, becoming deathly still. “My dear Verstael, have you contemplated the futility of continuing your research? There will be no new funding or grants, and you have been condemned internationally for your experiments. Perhaps it is time to move on.”

“Never!” Verstael snarled adamantly. “I will never abandon my work like a coward! I will live, and _die_ , in this facility, if I have to!”

“Your acceptance is admirable.”

Verstael blanched. Blinked. Once. Twice. “I beg your-”

Ardyn hadn’t been holding a weapon. There had been a wickedly sharp dagger sheathed in his coat, but he felt such a quick death was too lenient for the demented scientist. He wanted the man to suffer, the same way he’d made this poor infant suffer…

One swift strike was enough to incapacitate the man. Verstael went flying to the floor, and Ardyn wiped his hand like it had been dirtied. The old man was moaning in pain, no doubt the result of a broken nose and jaw.

“It saddens me to put an end to this reunion.” Ardyn leant down, and used one hand to drag the man across the ground. He intended on stringing him up from one of the sturdier looking light fixtures, so the man would be dangling, in a crude imitation of what he’d done to the baby earlier. To do so he needed rope, so he dropped the man’s foot roughly, using a booted heel to step onto the delicate bone of his ankle. If he applied just the right amount of pressure…

There was a sickening crunch, and it was practically music to Ardyn’s ears. Verstael began screeching in agony, and Ardyn mused on the low pain tolerance of regular humans.

The baby began sniffling at the disturbing sound, and Ardyn bounced the child with one-arm idly, as he headed for the utility space. “There, there, little one.” He cooed, and was left feeling relieved when the baby didn’t shift away in disgust at his comfort. Rather, it settled down immediately, big, tearful eyes regarding him with something strange but _warm_. He hummed over Verstael’s continued screams, locating a string of rope easily enough.

Tying Verstael to the light fixture was simple, even when cradling an infant. The man spat, and spewed insults at Ardyn, even when his face drowned in crimson blood and white bone peeked from his shattered ankle. He must have been in immeasurable pain, yet he still had vitriol. “Traitor!” He hissed, when Ardyn finally stood back, admiring his complete work. “Scum! Deserter!”

“I was hoping we could part on good terms.” Ardyn smirked at the seething man. The blood was rushing to his head, and Ardyn wished he could stick around to see the man abandon his dignity and cry pitifully, but… “Alas, I must bid you adieu. I have no desire to see you captured. I’d rather peruse it in the papers. You’ll have what you’ve always wanted, Verstael. Fame and recognition for your… _creations.”_ Slowly, his eyes flitted over to the steel cribs, where the other babies were laying soundlessly. He forewent replying to Verstael’s ensuing cursing, and instead peered inside the cots. Should he perhaps…save _them_ as well?

The creatures stared up at him with unblinking red eyes, like subservient little daemons. There wasn’t an inch of humanity left in them.

Ardyn wrinkled his nose, and grimaced when the baby squirmed to be put down amongst its fellows. It appeared the child was seeking companionship. Likely he’d grow up to be a social butterfly… “They don’t deserve you.” Ardyn semi-snapped at the boy, yanking him away in a possessive manner. “ _I’ll_ take care of you.” He vowed, staring intensely into the boy’s bright eyes. “You’ll want for nothing.” And the child would be _his. **His**_ little piece of sunshine. He’d be a proper father, the same way he’d always wanted to be all those years ago…

Ardyn didn’t believe in fate, or any of that other nonsense. Time had left him cynical and bitter, but the way this boy had appeared, in _this_ circumstance, unattached to no-one and completely rife for the taking…

Well, Ardyn was _lucky_ , and he wasn’t about to look the gift-horse in the mouth.

He’d always wanted a baby of his own. Something that wouldn’t run from him…

“Prompto.” Ardyn decided, with a rare, sincere smile. The baby mimicked his expression, revealing its toothless gums. He allowed Verstael to witness this, as the man would be dead _long_ before he had the chance to spread the insidious rumour that Ardyn Izunia actually _cared_ for something. The man would be cursed with this image, and die knowing that the wretch he’d bred would out-live him. “Prompto Izunia.”

Doubtless, the boy’s surname would have to be changed at some point, to better protect him, but for the meanwhile…

Ardyn could feel proud to have a son who shared his name. “Let us go, Prompto.” The name fell off his tongue smoothly. It felt fitting. “You’re in dire need of feeding, and a bath.”

_My Prompto. My sunflower. **My son.** _

* * *

 

When Prompto returns to the castle, the doors open before he has a chance to knock. A gust of warm wind welcomes him inside, and he’s just preparing to launch into his well-prepared speech when he receives a stinging slap to the cheek.

He steps back in shock, squinting in the darkness, and sighs when he sees the familiar figure glaring at him. Despite that look, he can’t help but give a sunny smile. Ardyn looks fine. Exactly as Prompto had left him. “Papa…” He trailed off, overcome with a mixture of relief and happiness. “I missed you so much…” Raising a hand, he rubs at his smarting cheek. “I guess you don’t feel the same way…”

He hears Ardyn take a breath, and closes his eyes, anticipating a stern lecture. He remains still for several long seconds, before inching them open hesitantly. Ardyn is no longer glaring, although there is clear disapproval in his eyes. “You silly boy.” He hissed, and Prompto looked downwards in shame. He always hated disappointing his father, even if he had no other choice. “ _Of course_ I missed you. You are my **_son._** Not an hour goes by when I don’t fret for you, my pet. Alone out in the world, without anyone to protect you.”

“I’ve managed just fine, you know…” Prompto musters up the nerve to say, and gives a watery smile when Ardyn sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m an adult now, after all.”

“Nay, you are far from that.” Ardyn disputed, but there was no true heat in his words. “An adult would be intelligent enough to stay away. A child would return for their papa.”

“Someone who **_loves_** their parent would come back.” Prompto insisted stubbornly, and, contrary to his preaching about his maturity, he rushed the man for a hug, wrapping his skinny arms around Ardyn’s shoulders tightly. He inhaled the man’s unique scent. It was woodsy, with a hint of something metallic…

Prompto had missed the man. They may have worked separately, but Prompto had _never_ gone this long without seeing Ardyn. They always crossed paths, and Prompto made a habit of visiting the man once a week when he could… “Has that awful prince been treating you right?” Prompto demanded, pulling away after a moment. His mere proximity to the man has relieved him of a lot of stress.

Ardyn makes a scoffing sound, but runs a hand through Prompto’s hair comfortingly. “Prince Noctis cannot harm me, dear boy.” Then, he curled his nose. “When is the last time you’ve _washed?_ You look positively awful.”

Prompto flushed self-consciously. Ardyn had always been very strict with hygiene, despite looking much like a homeless person. Prompto assumed this had something to do with his knack for healing. “Uh…a couple of days ago?” He smiled sheepishly. “What, do I smell bad? I thought I put enough deodorant on…”

Ardyn’s nostrils flared, but he wasn’t rude enough to pull away. “Ah, yes. You are drowning in artificial scent.” He looked Prompto up and down critically, and Prompto felt like an inadequate child under the man’s judging eyes. “ _And_ you’ve lost weight, as well. There is _never_ an excuse to neglect your health Prompto.”

**_Oh no._ **

Prompto thought, with a small amount of horror.

_Coddling Ardyn is surfacing. Fuck. I need to abort this topic, **now.**_

‘Coddling Ardyn’ as Prompto referred to it, was when the eccentric man entered a bossy, strict state in which he hovered over Prompto ceaselessly until he was satisfied the boy was **_completely healthy._** He typically did this when Prompto was sick, but sometimes…

“If you insist on staying at the castle, you can sleep in my room.” Ardyn decided adamantly. He pressed the back of his hand to Prompto’s forehead, clucking his tongue. “You need to rest. You look _exhausted._ Your immune-system has always been poor…”

Prompto blushed, hoping no one was hanging around to witness this ridiculously fretful display. “Papa, I haven’t even spoken to the head of the household about my accommodations yet…”

“Indeed.” A curt voice suddenly intoned, and Prompto withdrew from Ardyn, looking around the man to see the source of the voice. Of course, it was Ignis. The man had an easily recognisable voice. His face flickered in the warm lighting of the hall, his spectacles dancing with the warm flame from the nearby fire.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending to this chapter is kind of abrupt because the next one is half-way completed already. I hope it was still okay :)
> 
> YES, I know Noctis and Prompto didn't meet in this one (as I originally planned) but I wanted to explain Ardyn and Prompto's backstory and got a little carried away with father-son fluff. I know some of ya'll have kind of liked that so far, so I hope you enjoyed adorable baby Prompto!
> 
> THANK YOU for your Kudos and comments! They really keep me going! (Please) Tell me if you liked this update!
> 
> See you all next chapter. I hope to post it as soon as life allows.


	7. Be our guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto settles into his new chambers, and is acquainted with two other inhabitants of the enchanted castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. It's kinda late, so sorry about that. Thanks for all of your feedback and kudos, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

  


* * *

  


Overall the entrance hall appeared more inviting this time around, Prompto noted. It was warm and well-lit, and even cleaner than the last time he’d visited (something Prompto had previously assumed to be impossible.)

_Is this because they were expecting me to come back? Surely not. I’m not **that** important…_

“The lodgings of our guests are determined by the head of household.” Ignis went on, ignoring Ardyn’s disconcerting smile. “His Highness Prince Noctis has entrusted such matters to me.” He gave Prompto a welcoming smile, and Prompto felt a little unnerved with the faint relief lingering in the man’s eyes.

_Have they been **wanting** me to come back? _

Prompto shifted closer to Ardyn, in an obvious cowardly manner.

_I’d rather stick with ‘Coddling Ardyn’ than ‘Instructing Ignis’ over there…_

“You look famished,” Ignis noted. “And rather scruffy. Please, come further inside. I’d take your coat, if you were wearing one…”

Prompto winced when Ardyn shot him a scolding look. He hadn’t bothered to don a coat, too busy focused on his anticipated return. With all of his nerves, he hadn’t felt the cold. “Um…it’s nice to see you as well…” He replied lamely. There was no reason to be rude to Ignis, the man hadn’t wronged him in any way. “But I’m…good here, thanks. I was kind of hoping to see Noctis, I mean, _the prince_.” He amended, when Ignis appeared ruffled at the lack of title. “I want to negotiate the terms of me staying here.”

“There is no need for that.” Ignis said shortly. “You are an honoured guest.”

“Can you say the same for my papa?” Prompto challenged, crossing his skinny arms. “I won’t forgive _anyone_ who treats him poorly.”

Ignis’s stare was as icy as a glacial, but his smile was amiable. “We do not mistreat guests, Prompto. No matter their…backgrounds.”

Prompto looked at Ardyn for affirmation, and slumped when the man gave a slight nod. “The prince?” He repeated, with a little more respect. _“Please?”_

“I’m afraid the prince is preoccupied presently. Training with Gladio, as a matter of fact. His Majesty can’t afford to let his skills get rusty.”

“No,” Ardyn practically purred, his eyes flashing in the dark. “ _He can’t.”_

Prompto was put-off. He’d created a grand speech, and he couldn’t even deliver it the way he’d planned due to the prince being ‘preoccupied’. Was anything _ever_ going to be easy with Noctis? He hated how his traitorous heart raced at the name…

“I will not disturb him. However, once his practice has concluded, I will appraise him of the situation. You may share supper with him in the dining hall once you have both washed up and dressed properly.”

“Dressed _properly_?” Prompto quirked an eyebrow. “Dude, I don’t own any fancy clothes.”

“That won’t be an issue. Your room will be stocked with finery, and I shall have one of the staff assist you in your dressing.”

“Assist?” Prompto hissed, flushing red. “I haven’t had help dressing since I was three!”

Ardyn coughed something that sounded suspiciously like “six” into his fist, and Prompto elbowed him in the side. He hadn’t _needed_ help at six, he’d just been bad at tying shoelaces.

And buttoning shirts. And zipping up jackets. He’d always been in such an energetic rush that dressing right had always foregone his mind. Ardyn had always rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner, beckoning him closer to adjust and straighten his clothing.

“It is not a demeaning thing, I assure you. Rather a tradition that is used in most families of nobility and royal blood.” Ignis explained in a scholarly manner.

Prompto squinted at the man in confusion. “Do you seriously dress the prince each morning like he’s some hapless kid? That’s embarrassing. I wouldn’t be bragging about that.”

“On the contrary. Prince Noctis can be rather private about his body. Help dressing is only reserved for the most important of formal occasions.”

“I’m…not that important.” Despite Prompto feeling warmed at the consideration, he also felt moderately suspicious. Why all of this effort for a broken MT? The _same_ broken MT that had caused nothing but trouble since venturing into the castle? He hadn’t quite expected to be received so warmly…

_I’m not stupid. There **must** be some other ulterior motive. _

For now though, he’d go along without protest. If playing nice meant gaining access to the library Dino had mentioned, then he’d willingly kiss Noctis’s boots. Ardyn’s safety was worth more than his own pride. If he could, Prompto would trade places with the man in a heartbeat.

That established, he wouldn’t stoop so low unless he absolutely _had_ to. He had no intention of subjugating himself to the prince. He had _some_ level of pride, after all. That, and Ardyn would flay him if he found out he was acting like some pathetic lapdog…

“You are our honoured guest, Prompto. _Of course_ you are.” Ignis said this in a no-nonsense manner, but his eyes were soft and kind. It was a change from his typical frostiness. “Now, allow me to show you to your chamber. The room has been prepared painstakingly.”

“I believe I’ve already made it clear.” Ardyn’s voice is light, but something dark lingers just underneath the surface. “ ** _My son_** will be staying with me.”

“What kind of head of the household would I be if I showed such poor hospitality? Cramping the pair of you in a single chamber would be unacceptable. I cannot abide it.”

“Your luxury quarters are a vast improvement from the caravans we usually stay in, I assure you. There is no need to fret for our comfort.”

Indeed, a castle chamber was _bound_ to be nicer than a caravan. Prompto was content to room with his father, but…

_When am I ever going to have another opportunity to stay in a kickass castle suite? I may as well take advantage. Live the high-life, for a while. Plus, Ardyn will be hovering over my shoulder ceaselessly if I stay with him. I need privacy for my research…_

“Perhaps Ignis is right.” Prompto hesitantly spoke up, shrinking somewhat at Ardyn’s disbelieving look. He didn’t often disagree with the man, publically, at least. “I **_am_** a guest. It would be rude to dictate my own accommodation. Besides, I’ve…never really had my own room before. I’d like to try it out.” He angled his father a wobbly smile, intimidated by the man’s evident disapproval. “Please?” He added, widening his eyes in the cutest manner he could manage. Ardyn had told him how adorable he could be. Maybe this would work…

Unfortunately, Ardyn did not coo or pet his head. Rather, his glare became intense, and he turned on his heel, his coat flapping behind him. “I see. _Fine_. If you’d rather listen to a stranger over your own doting father, then **_be my guest_**. Just don’t come crawling to me when you have nightmares!”

Prompto was surprised with the hostility, and reached out to grab his father’s hand. However, the man pulled away with a snarl, stalking off before Prompto had the chance to explain himself further. It was a disconcerting display. Ardyn had never treated him that way before…

_Maybe he’s still grumpy I came back?_

Either way, it wasn’t a good development.

Feeling a strong surge of guilt, Prompto made to follow the man, and jumped when Ignis suddenly grasped his shoulder in a firm, but comforting manner. “Give him time.” The man advised calmly. “A little space will do the both of you good.”

Prompto frowned, but didn’t shrug away from the warm hand. “I haven’t seen my papa in over a month now. That’s the longest we’ve ever been apart. I **_missed_** him. We don’t need space. We need to spend time together, and talk, and laugh, and I brought him more of his belongings and a supply of paint and canvases since I’m sure he’s missing his art...” Prompto was aware he was rambling, but couldn’t make himself stop. “And I _need_ to make sure he’s been eating properly and not just been surviving on the contents of that flask-“

“You are very caring.” Ignis interjected, softly. “You will get along well with the lady who will help you dress for this evening. She is kind, just like you. A rare quality…”

Prompto resolved to focus on his current predicament, and reflect on his quarrel with Ardyn later. He didn’t want to waste time being caught up in family drama when he had a self-appointed task to be seeing to. If Ardyn wanted to sulk for the entirety of his stay, then Prompto would deal with it. If all progressed well, they’d be gone within the week, anyhow, and the man would be so happy he’d forget about their silly, _inconsequential_ , disagreement. “I will come to dinner on one condition.” Prompto gently shoved away Ignis’s hand, his blue eyes unwavering. “I want access to your library. Every day, every hour. Understood?”

Ignis raised his eyebrows at the demand. “Pray tell, what interests you about the library? You don’t strike me as the bookish type.”

Prompto crossed his arms, foregoing feeling offended. It was a fair assessment. He’d always preferred comics over actual books. Something he and Noctis had in common…

“I ask this, as the library is a rather important part of this castle. Most of the staff use it as a place of relaxation and study, and Prince Noctis is tutored there as well. I also consider it to be **_my personal_** domain. As chamberlain, it has been delegated my place of work.”

“The library sounds big.”

“The biggest in any Lucian territory. Perhaps the entire world, as rumoured.”

_Maybe I was being too optimistic about finding a cure for the castle so quickly._

Prompto felt vaguely nauseous at this news. If the library was as voluminous as Ignis said, it was no wonder they hadn’t figured out how to break the curse yet.

But he wouldn’t give up. He **_couldn’t._** He refused to let his father down!

_If I tell him what Dino said, he might agree to help me. Does he know already, though? If he did, he would have been searching ceaselessly..._

“I’ve been trying to find a way to break the curse.” Prompto said honestly. Ignis didn’t seem surprised. Clearly, he’d been expecting that answer. “In my searching, I came across a man named Dino. He said if I searched the library here, I might find something of use.”

Ignis’s eyes flashed with recognition at the name. “Ah, Dino Ghiranze. Has the man succeeded in his career aspirations?”

Prompto nodded. “Yeah. He’s the most famous jeweller in Altissia. His pieces are beautiful…”

“I’m glad. He was a good man, despite his eccentricities.” For some reason, Ignis looks immeasurably pleased.

_Perhaps he was worried about Dino, or something?_

“I will grant you access to the library, so long as you remember to rest properly, and _respect_ the books. Some of them are thousands of years old, and irreplaceable. They also hold sentimental value for the prince. His late father enjoyed reading. I only wish Noctis shared his passion. His Highness has always preferred comics…” Ignis trailed off. “Forgive my rambling. Please allow me to escort you to your chambers.”

“I have some luggage in my car.” Prompto informed. “I think it’s parked outside of your…” He cleared his throat, not knowing what word to use. “Radius?”  

“We simply can’t let a guest carry his own bags. It would be horribly rude and inhospitable.”

“But I don’t want anyone putting themselves under strain just for me.” Prompto protested. “It’s painful when you go too far, right? Just let me grab them. Or at least let me drive the car closer so it doesn’t hurt. Just tell me where I should park…”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

Prompto blushed, and averted his eyes in a small display of shyness. “I’m just doing the decent thing. Anyone else would do the same.”

“No. They wouldn’t.”

“That’s kind of pessimistic.”

“It’s based on experience. You aren’t the first guest to visit this castle.”

“Hopefully I’m the last.”

“My sentiments **_exactly._** ”

 

* * *

   


The chamber is warm, clinically clean, and the décor is done in the expected dark tones of the Lucian royal family. Despite the roaring hearth and the multiple candles, the light never fully punctuates the shadows lingering in the edges of the room, and it is for this reason that Prompto starts so severely when a figure steps out from them, rising from a shiny leather couch.

She’s strikingly pretty, fair-haired and with wide, expressive eyes. She carries herself with undeniable grace, and her smile is enough to make Prompto momentarily lose his breath.

He didn’t feel attracted to her, per se, but there was something ethereal about her. Like she was different from other humans, in some way…

She also looked familiar. Like Prompto had seen her before…

_That’s impossible. She’s tethered here as well. Maybe I’ve come across someone from her bloodline before. Someone who resembles her._

It seemed unlikely. Prompto would certainly remember someone who looked similarly stunning.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and he flushes when the woman peers at him expectantly. “I…erm…” He cleared his throat. “My name is, nice to meet…”

Mercifully, the woman takes over, ghosting forward to take his hand in a soft grip. “Thank you for returning.” She says gently, instead of a typical greeting. “The Astrals have blessed us.”

Prompto blinked, a little unnerved with the strange welcoming. The woman’s sweet perfume wafts around him, and he feels incredibly shabby compared to the woman. Even though she’s wearing a rather plain dress, her hair still gleams silver in the light, and pieces of jewellery twinkle as she moves. She’s effortlessly elegant, even in modesty. He can’t help but wonder why Noctis hadn’t taken a liking to her. She seems to be the _perfect_ candidate for breaking the curse. Although thinking of her with Noctis is enough to make Prompto feel the stirrings of jealousy in his chest…

“This is the fair princess of Tenebrae.” Ignis speaks up, reminding the pair of his presence. He’s carrying Prompto’s backpack, insisting on unburdening the other male. Prompto had not long parked Ardyn’s car in one of the back gardens, so his belongings could be easily accessed. He’d met with a few more inhabitants of the castle. Two knights, and a scullery maid.  All had been interesting to meet, and _all_ had been curious about him. They hadn’t complained about being used as pack-mules, either. If anything, they’d seemed hopeful and apprehensive about his arrival. “Lady-“

“There are no princesses of Tenebrae.” Prompto blurted out, thoughtlessly. When the woman was patiently quiet, he went on. “The last was Lady Lunafreya. She went missing alongside her brother, and no one ever discovered their bodies despite the massive search. Most people…” His voice turned bitter here. “Blame Niflheim. I know this.”

_I’ve experienced it. The people of Tenebrae still mourn their lost princess._

“Are you daft?” Ignis inquired, incredulous.

Prompto pouted. “That’s a rather rude question. What happened to treating guests with respect?”

A tinkling laugh is heard, and the woman’s eyes dance with kind amusement. “I understand your confusion, Prompto. But **_I am_** Lady Lunafreya. My brother and I have been here for some time now. I am glad to know we are still remembered back home.”

“Remembered is an understatement.” Prompto squeaks, feeling horribly embarrassed. No wonder he’d found the female familiar, she was still depicted in paintings and photographs all over Tenebrae. Not to mention the missing posters that were still put up from time to time by hopeful government members… “ _Everyone_ knows you and your brother’s name. The pair of you were the last of the royal bloodline, and you were the last ever Oracle…” Prompto widened his eyes. “Are you _still_ the oracle?”

“My Lady, if you don’t care for an impromptu interrogation-“

Lunafreya raises her hand, displaying clean, manicured nails. “It’s quite alright, Ignis. Prompto and I are going to be friends, and friends confide in one another.”

“ ** _You_** …want to be friends with **_me?_** ” Prompto is shocked. From the moment he was born ** _, no one_** had wanted to befriend him. He’d always been the weird, freckled kid from Niflheim, who travelled around with a dubious, eccentric father-figure. Even if someone _did_ look past his sad desperation for companionship, they couldn’t get past Ardyn. “ ** _Really?”_**

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t be?”

Prompto wasn’t foolish enough to insult himself. For once, he wanted to be cool.

_Don’t screw this up, Prompto. She could be a good friend in this place. For once in your miserable life, **be cool.**_

“I, um, like your…”

_Complimenting people is always a good step towards friendship!_

“Skin. It’s so unblemished. And smooth.”

**_Ugh._ ** _Way to sound like a total creep!_

“I prefer yours.” Lunafreya returned, fingers touching his cheeks in a feathery manner. “Kissed by the sun. You remind me of the sun itself…”

Unsure of what to say to that, Prompto replied “My papa calls me ‘sunflower’.” and then promptly cringed at his mortifying slip. Why did he have to be so insufferably lame? Now the princess would laugh at him, or in the least, Ignis would…

Prompto was shocked when neither guffawed at the admitted term of endearment.

Rather, Lunafreya beamed. “A fitting term of endearment, Prompto. I suppose it is reserved for just him? I imagine Ardyn to be a rather protective father.”

_She doesn’t seem repulsed by him like the others. Maybe she’s had less dealings with him._

“We need the sun to return. Desperately.” The statement is abrupt, and Prompto shifts uncomfortably.

“Hopefully I can help with that?” It comes out more like a question, but Lunafreya appears pleased with his willingness nevertheless.

“I know you can.” She stated, with absolute certainty.

“Your confidence is simply inspiring.” There’s a hint of dryness in Ignis’s tone. “Lady Lunafreya, I know homely duties are beneath you, however-“

Lunafreya raised her hand, cutting Ignis off. “I am honoured to serve the household, Ignis. I will take great joy in assisting our new guest with everything he needs.”

“Not everything, My Lady. He merely needs your wardrobe expertise. Do you have anything suitable that would fit him? We can’t have the boy running around in those disgusting rags.”

Prompto bristled. “Hey! My clothes aren’t _rags_. They’re just…understated.”

“In other words, they are bloody _horrid._ I want Prompto clean, well-groomed, and dressed _appropriately._ Spare no effort in achieving this.” Ignis’s voice is ordering, but Lunafreya merely nods docilely, probably used to the man’s dictating. “Dinner shall be served at approximately six o’clock. Please be punctual, and remember your manners.”

Prompto rolled his eyes. “Hey, _I am_ a civilised human being, y’know. Not a savage.”

Ignis gives him a doubtful look, and Prompto can’t help but acknowledge that the man, (perhaps) is a _tiny_ bit right. Prompto has never sat down to a formal meal before. The fanciest he ever got was when he had enough money to buy the pricier items at the Crow’s Nest, or when he treated himself to something special at Galdin Quay. He’d never received an invitation to dine elsewhere before. Not even from Cindy or Vyv…

In some ways, this dinner would be an interesting new experience. And Prompto _did_ like to try new things, perhaps he could muster some good-spirit for it, instead of whining like a spoiled child. ~~He was also a little excited to see Noctis again despite himself.~~

Ignis flipped open his silver pocket-watch, noting the time. “Well,” He said curtly. “I have preparations to see to. I shall collect you from your room ten minutes before six. Please be adequately prepared.”

Prompto nodded his understanding, and asked a question before he could begin to second-guess himself. “Does Noctis…actually _want_ to dine with me?”

_After my behaviour when we last met, I’m kind of surprised I wasn’t expelled from the castle upon my arrival._

“I don’t want to force myself on him…”

Lunafreya put her hand on his shoulder delicately. “Erase such doubts from your mind, Prompto. Noctis has been wishing for your return since you left.”

She sounded so sincere, that Prompto couldn’t help but believe her. Lunafreya doesn’t seem the sort to lie to him merely to achieve her own ends, whatever they may actually be.

_Why do I feel so flattered by this? It’s ridiculous. I **dislike** the prince. I want **nothing** to do with him. I’m only here to save my father. **That’s it.** _

Prompto’s stomach rolls at his own deception, and he can hear his mind whispering to him knowingly. **_LIAR._**

“He will be most excited to see you again, Prompto. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Ignis snapped his sleek pocket-watch shut, and strode from the room purposefully.

Prompto became aware of the weight in his pocket, and felt at his concealed phone. He’d almost forgotten that electricity didn’t work in the castle. He’d be unable to charge it again now he was here…

Now that he looked around the room more, he noticed an empty socket in the wall. No doubt it had used to be filled…

Prompto shrugged away from Lunafreya carefully, angling her a bright beam. “So, where do we start, Your Highness?”

“There is no need for such formalities, Prompto. Please, just call me Luna.”

It felt fundamentally wrong to be addressing a princess (AND The Oracle) in such a casual manner, but Prompto wasn’t about to go against her request. It was her name, after all. She had the right to be addressed however she pleased. Also, she was royalty, and Prompto felt uncomfortable defying someone of such noble standing. Her societal rank had not decreased any, despite the years that had passed in her absence.

“If you insist, Luna.” Prompto returned respectfully. He leaned down, and picked up the bag Ignis had placed down prior to his exit. It was packed with most of his essentials.

Ignis had told him his other bags would be delivered later, and he had the feeling the man was going to vigorously search each one before returning them to Prompto.

He seemed rather protective over Noctis, and likely the prince had undergone many assassination attempts since he had become tethered in the castle. In that regard, Prompto couldn’t begrudge him his cautiousness. Besides, if the castle staff wanted to rifle through all of his miscellaneous junk (excluding his cameras which he was territorial over) they could go ahead. He owned nothing of true value, and nothing of real threat.

“Do you mind if I unpack my stuff first? I don’t really want it lying around.”

_The sooner I unpack, the sooner I can get to work in the library._

Unpacking may have oozed with finality, but it was an essential step. He couldn’t be tripping over his belongings when he was trying to research.

“There is no need for that. You are our guest here. We have staff to unpack for you.”

“I don’t need you guys to fuss over me-“

“It is our duty.”

_No. Your duty is to Tenebrae, as their **princess.** And to the world, as its **Oracle.** You shouldn’t be stuck here, cooped up in a palace away from the rest of the world. _

Niflheim may not have been war mongering anymore, but Tenebrae still felt the loss of the royal family quite keenly, and Prompto had heard numerous complaints about there being no oracle now that Lunafreya was gone. The fact that a new Oracle had yet to be born or named was used as evidence of her proof of life. It was _this_ sole snippet of information that encouraged government officials to continue lobbying for extended searches for the lost princess.

Before Prompto had the chance to argue with the determined princess any further, a cheerful knock was heard at the door, and Iris was peeking her head into the chamber with another of Prompto’s bags. “Hey!” She greeted perkily. “It’s nice to see you again, Prompto.” She shook his bag idly. “Ignis sent me up with more of your stuff.”

Prompto accepted the bag as Iris handed it over. It was small and compact, and housed his toiletries, and hair products. If he didn’t use the products in his golden locks, they would either fall flat, or go completely curly, depending on the day.

_He must have sent them so I can do my hair for tonight._

“Thanks. It’s nice to see you as well, I guess. I kind of wish it was under better circumstances, though.”

“What’s better than this? You’re about to have dinner with the crown prince of Lucis! _And_ sample some of Ignis’s best cooking. A million people would kill for this chance!”

_I get the feeling she was one of them, once. She must have grown out of her girlish crush._

“Oh, hi Luna.” Iris suddenly said, a little sheepishly. She sunk into a small curtsy, which Luna waved away. “I forgot you were here. Erm, Ignis wants me to assist you with Prompto. He says Prompto will need all the help he can get.”

“Um, right here, guys.”

“Of course. I am always glad to have aid in these matters.”

Prompto got the impression Iris felt a little uncomfortable around Luna, as she was shifting on her feet in an antsy manner. He wondered what the cause was for this one-sided tension…

Before he could reflect further, the door was opened again (this time without a knock) and a sultry looking female was swaggering into the room confidently. “Hey goldilocks,” She addressed Prompto, with a crooked, full-lipped smirk. “I hear you’re supposed to be seduced tonight. Ignis sent me up to teach you some bedside manners.”

Prompto flushed a deep crimson, and shook his head violently. “No!” He practically squeaked, much to the woman’s obvious amusement. “It’s just dinner! Nothing else!”

“Relax kid, I’m just teasing. Specs didn’t send me. I just wanted to meet you in person.”

“In person?” Prompto repeated in confusion.

“Yeah. I’m the watchwoman here. I’ve seen you wandering around the place with Ardyn. I thought it was time we got properly acquainted, since the word is you’re going to be staying a while. My name is Aranea Highwind, former captain of Niflheim’s Third Army Corps 86th Airborne Unit, and current captive in this shithole. Nice to meet you.”

Prompto blinked at the woman’s blatant honesty. She didn’t seem at all polite, or respectful. She wasn’t trying to treat him like some sort of honoured guest incapable of doing a single thing for himself.

He liked her immediately.

“Prompto Argentum.” Prompto returned. “Former broken Niflheim MT, current reluctant houseguest in this palace.”

Aranea laughed at his returned honesty. “I like you, kid. You don’t try and suck up to us like the others did. You might have a chance with the prince yet.”

“I don’t want to-“

“Your blush speaks for itself, sweetheart. Don’t worry, we all act like that when we have our first crush.”

“I _do not_ have a crush-“

“So your heart doesn’t race at the mere mention of his name?”

“No!”

“You aren’t remotely attracted to him?”

“Of course not!”

“He’s really handsome, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is…I mean, **NO!”** Prompto felt like he could fry an egg on his hot cheeks.

_She tricked me! I take that back. I don’t like her, **at all.** _

Iris giggled at Aranea’s teasing, and Luna, despite herself, gave a humoured smile.

Prompto pouted.

_I always imagined that having three girls alone in a room with me would be **much** different to this. _

“It’s okay, Prompto.” Aranea patted his cheek patronisingly. “You aren’t the first to find the prince dashing, and you won’t be the last, I assure you. That pretty boy is _very_ delectable. For some, at least. He’s not really my type.”

“And your type is?”

“None of your business, kid. Now, you better start getting ready. I think this is going to take a while.” In a rather obvious manner, the woman looked him up and down with a sceptical look. “Each to their own, I guess.” She murmured, and Luna sent her a sharp look.

“I’ll prepare your bath.” Iris tasked herself with this duty brightly, an air of excitement about her. “How hot do you like your water, Prompto?”

“You don’t need to go through all that effort.” Prompto said hastily. “I’m used to cold water. Papa and I often washed in fresh water springs whenever we were travelling. I’m used to it.”

“Of course I do!” Iris rebutted enthusiastically. “You’re our guest here, Prompto. And Noct would never forgive us if we treated you poorly…”

“Ignis would have our asses as well.” Aranea added dryly.

When Prompto still refused to answer (mentally mulling over Iris’s statement about Noctis), Luna did so in his stead. “Warm the water to a pleasantly mild temperature.” She advised. “We can always add more hot water, if need be.”

Iris sunk into another flimsy curtsy. “Yes, Lady Lunafreya.”

“There really is no need-“

But Iris was already gone, heading through a sturdy door that obviously led to the bathroom. The door shut softly behind her, and Aranea patted Luna on the back.  “Ignore her. She still feels awkward about you finding out about her former crush on Noctis.”

Luna’s thin eyebrows pinched in minor frustration. “But that is all in the past-“

“She’s still a teenage girl, Princess. They take a while to get over things. Just ask Beefcake.”

“Beefcake?” Luna repeated confusedly. “Who is-“

Aranea snickered. “Gladio, Luna. _Gladio._ That muscle head knows a thing or two about teenage girls. If you’re really concerned about Iris, take it up with him. He’ll sort her out.”

Prompto felt invasive, like he was intruding on a personal conversation, but a movement to distance himself from the girls merely caught their attention once more. Luna appeared sheepish over her distraction, but Aranea merely folded her arms uncaringly. “I think I might start unpacking this in the bathroom.” Prompto said, holding up the small toiletry bag.

Aranea waved him away. “You do that, Blondie. Luna and I will start rifling through the wardrobe to find some hot clothes for your date.”

“It’s _not_ a date.”

“ _Suuuuuuuuure_ it isn’t.”

 

* * *

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is an abrupt ending, but the next chapter is nearly half-way completed and should be posted sooner than usual. I hope you enjoyed reading Luna and Aranea, I had fun writing them :)
> 
> Don't worry though, Noctis isn't far away! 
> 
> (Please) Tell me what you think of this chapter, if you'd like. As always, thanks for your comments and kudos, they keep me motivated, even when my writing is a little slow.


	8. Put our service to the test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prince and Prompto will never fall into a stereotypical romance category, as Ignis is fast learning. He is also realizing that Noctis wooing the blond won't be as easy as they had all hoped. 
> 
> Prompto just hopes he can withstand all of the pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised I'd get the next chapter out earlier, so here it is. It's a little shorter than my usual ones, but it's still better than nothing, right? I hope you all enjoy :)

 

* * *

 

 

Despite himself, Prompto was glad to be bathing in warm water. He may have been accustomed to washing in glacial temperatures, but this was _far_ nicer.

For the first time in months, he found himself relaxing, spreading out his legs in the sizeable tub. It was large enough to fit at least three other bodies, and long enough to accommodate even the tallest of men or women. Through the hazy steam he could barely see his own fingers, and he moaned when more of the hot water was added. There was a small fire in the bathroom, on which Iris had heated a large pot of water. She had also added liberal amounts of bubble bath to the mixture, which meant Prompto could lounge in the bath without fear of her seeing his…nether regions. (Or, as Ardyn had always said _‘privates’,_ which sounded plainly _weird._ )

Of course, he’d still freaked out majorly when she had waltzed into the bathroom brandishing a hairbrush and began threading it through the tangles in his hair. He’d shrieked in a way reminiscent of a little girl, and turned as red as one of the lobsters they served in Galdin Quay. Now though, he was too soothed to protest, even when she began massaging his scalp with shampoo. Being pampered in such a girly manner was kind of embarrassing, but…

_Prince Noctis must be **so spoiled** if he gets this kind of treatment. _

“There.” Iris chimed with satisfaction, when Prompto’s flesh was scrubbed pink, and his hair was smooth and silky. “Much better. And you look nice and relaxed, as well. It’s a big improvement from your hassled look from earlier.”

Prompto smiled sheepishly. “Sorry if I was rude. I’ve just been stressed.”

“You’re our guest, Prompto. There is no need for apologies.”

“Does being a guest mean I can get away with anything I want?”

“Not in the least. Ignis will offer you all the hospitality in the world, but he’s still the head of the household. If he doesn’t want you to do something, he’ll let you know. Quite vividly. You should see him when someone burns Noctis’s food, he goes _crazy_ …” Iris paused. “I _really_ don’t want him lecturing me tonight. You should hop out. Luna and Aranea have probably picked something out by now…”

Prompto recalled how the two were dressed. Luna, plain and effortlessly elegant, and Aranea, leather and revealed flesh…

Neither style really suited Prompto. He hoped they hadn’t-

 

* * *

 

 They had.

Prompto, shivering, (clad only in a cushy towel warmed by the fire during his bath) regarded the women’s differing choices with a twisted expression. Luna had selected a goddamned _dress_ (okay, so she called it a robe, but it was _totally_ a dress) and Aranea had somehow managed to procure skin-tight leather pants, a tiny shirt, and some kind of spiked _collar_ that would make Prompto look like a submissive dog...

“I appreciate your effort.” Prompto said, a little weakly. The two females were peering at him expectantly, clearly hoping he’d choose their selection. “But I just don’t think either of those outfits are… _me.”_

Lunafreya seemed accepting, but cocked her head nevertheless. “I see. I know Noctis would adore you in this…” She stroked the silken fabric carefully.

Aranea scoffed. “Sorry Princess, but Noctis would love Goldilocks in _this._ These pants would accentuate that cute little ass of his. The prince will _definitely_ want to tap that.”

“Such vulgarity…”

“Noctis is a man, Luna. He may act like a little boy around you, but on the inside, he wants his virgin cock buried inside-“

“OKAY ENOUGH!” Prompto shouted. Not only did he feel mortified with the topic, but he also felt a stirring between his legs, which both horrified (and astounded) him. He hadn’t started hardening up this easy since he was _sixteen_. Yet the talk of Noctis, and his cock…

_Wait – he’s a **virgin?** I did NOT see that coming! _

“Aw. Little Prompto is flustered. What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did Daddy never teach you about the birds and the bees?” Aranea coos this mockingly, and Prompto can’t help but flip her off. It may have been rude, but he was tiring of playing nice all of the time. She was clearly trying to bait him, he may as well give her the reaction she sought.

“He did, actually. And it’s something I **_never_** want to re-visit again, thank you.” Prompto says this tartly, and Aranea looks impressed with his nerve.

_Was she testing me?_

“Yeah, that sounds pretty gross.” Iris sympathised. She’d been watching the three with an amused glimmer in her eyes. “I remember when Gladdy tried giving me the talk, it was **_so_** embarrassing. He still believed I thought babies were delivered by cloud chocobos. I was _twelve._ ”

Prompto snorted at this. “Seriously?” He found it hard to believe the burly man would assume something so sweet of his little sister.

“Yep! No lie. He was oblivious to the fact that I knew he and Ignis were banging like bunnies, and that I had already researched a _heap_ about anal and vaginal sex. His face was hilarious.”

Prompto offered the girl a high-five, which she reciprocated with a sharp ‘smack’.

“Okay kiddies, pay attention to the adults, please.” Aranea drawled. “Prompto, you really need to get dressed. You spent forever in the bath, and we still have to do your hair.”

_This bossy behaviour is getting old. If I wanted to be bossed around, I would have stayed with Papa._

Prompto crossed his arms across his skinny (and hairless) chest. “Look,” He started bluntly. “I’m not getting dressed tonight _just_ to please his royal moodiness. I’ll wear what I want, and it won’t be motivated by what that stupid beast thinks.” Then, just for good measure, he stomped his foot. “I’m not here to be his pretty little doll!”

“Woah, calm down, drama queen.” Aranea cautioned, although her smirk had widened. “Hm. It seems you _do_ have fire, after all. The others who came just went along with whatever we said blindly. Unintelligent puppets. I’m glad to see **_you’re_** different.”

“I’m glad you aren’t skinning me for refusing.” Prompto strode over to the door that led to the wardrobe, and stepped inside. His jaw dropped at the sheer scale and variety of clothing that was hung perfectly inside. It was no wonder it had taken the two females so long to find something they deemed ‘suitable’ for him…

_There’s so many clothes here. I can’t go through them all!_

Sheepishly, Prompto poked his head back outside the wardrobe, where the three females were regarding him knowingly. “Um, can I have some help, please? I don’t know where to start…”

Luna nodded obligingly. “Of course, Prompto. Shall we find something more reminiscent of your usual style?”

“Not _too_ reminiscent. Ignis wants him in formal wear.” Aranea reminded.

“Oh, yes. Hmmm...Perhaps we should start here…”

“That colour would go beautifully with his eyes!”

“I agree with you there, Iris. Although that shirt is a little stuffy for my taste…”

“Can I…offer my opinion?”

“With what you came dressed in? _Hell no._ Go sit outside, Goldilocks.”

 

* * *

 

 Despite all of the discussions over colour, Prompto is donned in pure white.

He’s wearing slacks that are slightly snug around his backside, and a billowing blouse, which flows down his body in a sophisticated fashion. Around his shoulders is a sheer jacket, which apparently gives him a ‘delicate’ look and makes his skin ‘glow’. He’s still donning his typical accessories however, which clashes with his overall outfit.

He thinks he looks ridiculous (even more so since his hair is now falling in the soft curls that come about when he leaves it un-styled by product) but he’s tired from the theatrics of the day, and he didn’t have it in him to fight the three females off anymore. At least, he thinks, he still looks _somewhat_ like himself. He’s not wearing a dress or walking around half-naked…

When Ignis comes to collect him, he looks him up and down with a scrutinising eye, before nodding his head stiffly in approval. “ _Much_ better. Well done you three.”

Aranea gives a sarcastic curtsy, Iris giggles, and Luna nods with a sweet smile. Three very different females, who could all unite forces and be _horrifically_ scary. Well, _scarier_ than they likely were individually. Prompto wouldn’t want to get on any of their bad sides, even Luna, who appeared so sweet and compassionate, was obviously a force to be reckoned with.

“Who knew such a fine gentleman lurked underneath that clownish behaviour and shabby clothing.”

“Uh…thanks?”

“Allow me to escort you to the dining hall.” Ignis offered his arm, and Prompto took it clumsily, resisting the urge to pull an uncomfortable face. This was _awkward._

“Thanks for the help.” Prompto expressed his gratitude to the three females.

“Have a nice dinner, Prompto.” Luna came forward, and pecked him on the cheek softly. “I’m sure you and Noctis will have a delightful time.”

“I hope you get lucky, kid.” Aranea added, waggling her eyebrows in a deviant manner.

“Let us go.” Ignis led Prompto forward, and Prompto sent a wavering grin to the three, before he and Ignis were travelling through the halls, leaving Prompto’s new quarters behind.

Their trip to the dining hall was mostly quiet, with Prompto nearly tripping over his own feet in nervousness. Ignis was _very_ intimidating.

Although Prompto couldn’t help but babble the closer they got to the dining hall… “Y’know, I always thought it would be my papa who walked me to meet a new guy.” He laughed in a nervous, high-pitched wheeze. “Or a beautiful girl.”

“Do you have any particular preference?” Ignis’s voice is tight here, and Prompto is smart enough to know the reason why. Briefly, he contemplates lying, but he’s bad at deception when it counts, and he feels it would be cruel to trample on the man’s hopes, no matter _how_ unrealistic they may be.

~~He also wants Noctis to know he is single and attracted to both sexes for some ** _unknown_** reason. There was no harm in it, right?~~

“I don’t think I’m attracted to one more than the other.” Prompto divulged truthfully. “It really depends on the person for me, not what’s between their legs.”

“That is a rather sensitive thing to say, Prompto.”

Prompto flounders, trying to think up a suitable response, but before he can formulate one, they are standing before two towering doors. They are a sleek black, blending with the dark marble of the floor. He can’t help but be awed by the sheer luxury the palace exudes, and gapes stupidly when Ignis pushes them open, revealing the decadent (yet very modern) dining hall.

The ceiling is high, and Prompto cranes his neck, letting out a breath of appreciation when he sees the art painted around the edges. It’s the crest of the Lucian royal family, etched throughout the room in an immaculate fashion. Candles are lit within mere feet of one another, valiantly flickering in attempts to light the shadowy room, and they cast a sheen on a gleaming table, the longest table Prompto has ever seen. As he brainlessly follows Ignis to said table, he sees it is set with two silver plates. One at the head of the table, and one to the left. Ignis pulls out a decadent chair, and it takes a moment for Prompto to realise the man is waiting for him to sit, like he’s some kind of noblewoman.

Prompto inches into the seat, his backside impacting with a ridiculously comfortable cushion. He could fall asleep here, _upright._ The hot bath has left him groggy, and even the splendour of the castle is failing to rouse his dim senses. He yearns to inhale a short meal, and collapse into his new-

“Bed.” Ignis is grumbling, snapping open his pocket-watch to squint at the time unhappily. “If his highness is still sleeping slothfully, I swear I’ll-“

Before he can finish his sentence, the doors are opened once more, and the muscled Gladiolus is escorting the aforementioned prince into the room. Noctis looks unfairly dashing in his black royal attire, all lean muscle and broad shoulders he never quite finished growing into…

His prominent blue eyes regard Prompto with a look of hesitant excitement, and he practically runs to the table, ignoring Ignis’s growl about ‘running in the palace’ and Gladiolus’s booming chuckle at the prince’s eagerness.

He isn’t living up to the expectation of ‘suave prince charming’ at all, and Prompto can’t help but return the prince’s smile, amused and relieved. If Noctis was willing to act so goofy, Prompto didn’t feel pressured to act in a fittingly polite manner. It was something he _always_ failed in, much to Ardyn’s joint amusement and exasperation. He was not unfamiliar to unwittingly offending people with his casual demeanour…

“Prompto!” Noctis greets with a genuine grin, his polished shoes come to a squeaking halt at the head of the table, and Ignis grimaces at the sound. “I’m so glad you came back. I hope you can forgive me for acting like such an asshole the last time you were here.”

“How articulate.” Ignis is pinching the bridge of his nose now, and Gladiolus wraps a relaxed arm around the man’s shoulders. “He is in need of further literacy lessons.”

Prompto feels his lips twitching into a returning grin, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment, smoothing his face into an impassive mask instead. Well, as impassive as an emotive guy like _him_ can manage. “Apology accepted.” He said coolly, and Noctis’s grin dropped. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I hope we can discuss some concerns of mine. As I’m sure you’ve gathered, I intend to stay here for a while.”

Noctis is withdrawing back into his typical sullen persona, and Prompto feels bad about ruining his expectations of a fun dinner.

However, he can’t show Noctis he is a pushover. He has to stand his ground. Conceding defeat now would only lead to complications in the future.

“Of course.” Noctis sounds achingly disappointed, but Prompto is glad to see he has the capacity to be reasonable and act like a true heir to the Lucian throne. It’s a promising sign for the future of his crumbled empire. “But may we eat as we talk? I’m _starving.”_

_I guess that will be less awkward._

Prompto nodded his agreement, and fiddled with his cutlery as Noctis took his own seat, _unaided,_ might he add. “Nice place you have here.” He said lamely, in the silence that followed. Ignis had silently excused himself, and Prompto felt the weighty stare of Gladiolus, who was clearly assessing him for some kind of threat. It made him gulp, and Noctis’s eyes narrowed in observation. 

“Gladio,” He addressed naturally. “Why don’t you help Ignis in the kitchen? You know how much he nit-picks over meals. We’ll be stuck here for hours until he deems them ‘adequate’ enough to serve.”

“Noct-“

“That isn’t a request.” Noctis cut in, eyeing Gladiolus reassuringly. “Go to the kitchen and assist Ignis. We’ll be fine. We’re both adults, after all.”

Gladiolus peered at Prompto distrustfully, and once again, the blond realised that Ardyn’s reputation preceded him. Whatever his papa had done, it had been bad enough to incite severe loathing in the majority of this palace. Loathing that was now being pushed onto _him._

_Papa, what did you do? **No.** It shouldn’t matter. Whatever he did in the past means nothing now. Ardyn is my father and I refuse to disown him over something he did years ago. He took me in when no one else wanted me. He’s a good person **.** Or, **something else.** _

No matter _what_ Ardyn was (because he certainly wasn’t a regular human) Prompto would _always_ take his side.

 

* * *

 

“I’m pretty sure Ardyn tried to poison Noctis’s soup.” Crowe’s voice is both disdainful, and flat. She’s leaning up against the main kitchen’s counter, rolling her eyes as Ignis squinted at the stew she had been preparing painstakingly. She’s tossing a ladle up and down in boredom, and Ignis shoots her a dirty look when it clatters onto the ground with a splash.

“Of course he did, bastard.” Gladiolus scoffed, arms crossed. He watched with a smirk as Ignis bent down to retrieve the ladle, and Crowe rolled her eyes at the admiring look in his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Shouldn’t we be taking attempts on Prince Noctis’s life more seriously?” Nyx is poking disinterestedly at one of the prepared dishes, and Libertus practically _drools_ at the assembled food. “I mean, _maybe_ we shouldn’t let our guard down.”

“If Ardyn _really_ wanted to poison Noct he wouldn’t have been caught.” Gladiolus disputed. “He’s sneakier than that.”

“Are you implying we aren’t watchful enough to prevent our prince being assassinated?” Crowe appears rather offended by this, and Ignis shakes his head immediately.

“No. We’re stating that Ardyn isn’t imbecilic enough to _truly_ kill the man who might be the key to his own release. His action was likely out of spite. To spook you all.”

Crowe glowered, and Ignis realised grimly that it had _worked_. The former chancellor hadn’t lost his touch when it came to unnerving people. He was still disconcerting, and he _still_ knew how to manipulate those around him skilfully.

“It was probably some unpleasant herb.” Gladiolus added.

“Something that would make him ill during dinner tonight with Prompto. That way he’d have to excuse himself, and abandon the meal. Rather clever, actually.”

“Well, if the prince gets diarrhoea it ain’t from me.” Crowe said defensively. “I bet it was something that acts as a laxative. **_Gross.”_**   

“It could have been _anything_.” Ignis enunciated. “So you all best take stock to make sure nothing goes missing from the pantry. I’ll instruct Iris to do the same with the gardens. Ardyn clearly intends to sabotage their relationship. I **_won’t_** let it happen.” Then the man gritted his teeth. “For Astral’s sake, just _eat them_ , Nyx. Skewers aren’t nearly high-class enough for this dinner anyway.”

Nyx withdrew his hand as if it had been burned, and Libertus grumbled. “Hey, I cooked that myself, you know! _And_ I didn’t even eat it!”

“Congratulations. You must be so very proud.”

Libertus growled, and Gladiolus raised up a halting hand. “Relax, Libertus. You know Iggy gets snarky when he’s stressed.”

“Excuse you, I am **_not_** stressed. I am much too efficient to feel such trifle emotions.”

“You are intolerable, you know that?”

“You tell him sis!”

“Shut up, Libertus. And get those disgusting skewers away from me. They smell awful.”

“Alright, you two. Cool it. We have jobs to do.” Nyx, as ever, was the voice of reason in the trio. “Where do you want us stationed, Gladio?” The king’s shield was responsible for commanding the Kingsglaive, although Nyx was the clear leader of the group.

“Outside the dining hall. Prince Charmless doesn’t want me breathing down his neck, so you three can monitor the situation from there. If Prompto becomes a problem, send summons. I’ll deal with him personally.” Gladiolus said this briskly, and the three Kingsglaive inclined their heads, before obeying their orders and marching from the room. Once they were out of sight, he pushed Ignis up against the sink, pressing their lips together with frenzied fervour. “You need to relax.” He got out, fingers caressing Ignis’s sides. “Getting all worked up is only going to bring discord amongst the staff.”

Ignis moved his mouth against Gladiolus’s languidly for a moment, before pulling away with a more settled expression on his face. “I know.” He acknowledged. “I just…the crystal grows dimmer each day, Gladio. There isn’t much time yet. Six months, if we’re lucky.”

Gladiolus rubbed his temples tiredly at the unwelcome news. He didn’t check on the crystal as frequently as Ignis (frankly it brought up some bad memories he felt no desire to re-visit) but he didn’t think its condition was _that_ severe. “Are you sure?” Ignis quirked an eyebrow. “Right, stupid question. What’s the plan, then? Six months is a short time to fall in love.”

“And here I thought you were _romantic_. Where’s your imagination, Gladio?” Ignis tutted.

“It’s run a little astray. That tends to happen when you’re around.”

“Perhaps we ought to stay away from one another, then. We can’t have you losing your senses.” Ignis’s voice is teasing, and Gladiolus feels victorious. The man had been fretful to _mammoth_ proportions. It had been causing complications. “How about we limit our interactions to…once a week?”

“How about once a day?” Gladiolus played along gladly, his own voice a rumble.

“That sounds…reasonable.”

“I’m glad you approve. It’s only fair I choose the time and place though, right?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Hmmm…” Gladiolus pressed an open mouthed kiss to Ignis’s neck, and the man stifled a moan. “My terms are…” He laid another kiss on the man’s throat. “Late in the evening, in your chambers. I’m sure we can have _lots_ of fun in there.”

“Why Gladio, I never knew you found record-keeping so _fascinating_.”

“Anything is fascinating so long as you’re involved. Especially when you’re naked.”

“Who said anything about nudity?”

“Who said anything about record-keeping?” Gladiolus countered.

“Enough of this flirting.” Ignis said decisively, gently pushing the broader man away. “The sooner this dinner concludes, the sooner Prompto can get some rest. He looks exhausted, and his tiredness will affect his mood and progress with Noctis.”

“And you want to fuss over the meals, right?” Gladiolus quipped knowingly. “Even though you made most of them yourself. Why did you make so many, exactly? There’s at least twenty meals here. Who’ll eat the leftovers?”

“You will, of course. You do love eating _some_ _things_ , don’t you?”

“I thought you wanted to stop flirting. Hypocrite.”

“I’m not flirting. Just stating a fact. You’re rather talented, as well.”

“I’d hope so. Otherwise those moans you gave would be fake.”

“Hm. If all goes well this evening, you may be hearing some _very_ authentic moans tonight.”

“If not, then we’ll be calming down a seething prince.”

“I suppose our fates are in his hands, then.”

Gladiolus picked up an abandoned bottle of beer (some of the staff brewed their own, since they’d long run out of commercially advertised alcohol) and took a hearty swig. “Here’s to young romance. Let’s pray Noctis doesn’t screw up royally.”

“Was that a pun I just heard?”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fave headcanon of mine is Gladdy telling Iris babies are delivered by cloud chocobos when she's a kid. He thinks she's totally innocent but it doesn't take her long to figure out the truth :D
> 
> A portion of this chapter is kind of devoted to Gladnis, cause' I like adding their interactions to the story. Also, I had to add the Kingsglaive because I really liked the movie. 
> 
> Don't worry though, there's a big dosage of Noctis and Prompto in the next chapter! I know Prompto may seem a little difficult right now, but I think it's understandable considering his circumstances. Noctis will just have to try harder to win his affections ;)
> 
> As always, thank you VERY MUCH for your feedback. It's very encouraging. I am glad some of you said you liked Aranea in the last chapter, as I found her a little difficult to write. 
> 
> IMPORTANT: Tell me if you want more Ardyn and Prompto father-son bonding! I'm trying to figure out his role in the story and don't know quite where he fits yet. So if you want, lemme know if you want more of him...
> 
> I hope you guys are having a good day/night wherever you are!


	9. My, what a guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto joins Noctis for a rather interesting dinner. The pair learn more about one another in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter, FINALLY with some Noctis and Prompto interaction :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

* * *

 

 

“I can give you a tour of the palace.” Noctis says, and Prompto smiles shyly at the offer despite his resolution to stay cool. The prince has proven himself rather considerate, and the blond can’t help but admire that trait. “If you intend to stay here, you should know all about its history. It’ll be your home as well, after all.”

“That’s very kind of you, Prince Noctis. I…think I’d like that.” From what Prompto had seen, the castle was splendorous, and he wanted to explore it. Perhaps indulge in his hobby, and take some photographs. It may even help in his research to break the curse…

“Yeah?” Noctis is perking up now, and his grin is hesitant. “I could show you the grounds as well. We’ve maintained our breeding programs over the years, so we have some cool creatures. Do you like chocobos?”

Following the prince’s suit, Prompto brightened up considerably, beaming enthusiastically. “Like? I **LOVE** chocobos!” He proclaimed passionately, too excited to feel abashed with his embarrassingly eager reaction. “Oohhh, can we ride them? I love riding chocobos! Do you have stables? Do you have any cute chicks? I love those fluffy little guys!”

Noctis regarded him with wide eyes, and suddenly aware that he was rambling, Prompto fell quiet with a blush.

“Uh, sorry.” He apologised sheepishly, in a murmur. “I just…really adore chocobos.” His blush deepened in the silence that ensued, and he anxiously met Noctis’s eyes. Most people ridiculed Prompto when he behaved in such a manner…

Which was why he was so shocked to see Noctis’s widened grin. His indigo eyes were twinkling with happiness, and he reached across the table, grasping Prompto’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t apologise!” He said, gentle in his firmness. “You shouldn’t feel bad about being passionate about something. I love chocobos as well. So does Iggy and Gladio. We should all go for a ride together some day…”

Relief washed through Prompto. “You…mean it?” He’s still weary of being laughed at.

“Hell yeah I do! C’mon, Prompto, you think I’d lie to you?”

“We barely know one another.” Prompto pointed out.

_Although for some reason I feel like I’ve been friends with him for a long time…_

In other circumstances, perhaps he and the prince would have been best buddies. They seemed compatible in that way…

“Don’t you think it’s a little pathetic how I reacted? Like a kid?”

“Nope. I think it’s cute. _And_ admirable. I’d much rather you be honest about your feelings than try and act cool like so many other people do.”

Prompto flushed further at the compliment, and felt his heart skip a beat.

“I mean, who wants to hang out with an emotionless robot? That’s no fun.”

“Yeah.” Prompto nodded, somewhat unsurely. “I guess you’re right.”

Noctis squeezed his hand softly, and Prompto’s skin buzzed at the contact. “Course’ I am. Never be ashamed of yourself, Prompto. I think you’re amazing.”

“We barely know one another.” Prompto repeated.

“I know. But for some reason…I feel like I’ve known you for years.” It’s an honest admittance, and Prompto struggles to think of a suitable reply. He feels the same, but he can’t just blurt that out…

Thankfully, he is saved the awkwardness of responding when Ignis strides back into the dining room, and he yanks his hand away from Noctis’s hurriedly, although the head of the household’s sharp eyes catch the movement with a pleased glimmer. “Dinner will now be served.” He announced in a lofty voice. “I hope you enjoy the fruit of our labours.”

On cue, a pair of staff (two Prompto had met prior to being showed his room) walked purposefully into the room, easily balancing a dish each on one hand. They seemed to have freshened up some since Prompto had last seen them, and he shrunk under their judgemental stares.

_Ardyn must have pissed them off as well. Speaking of…_

Trying not to show his intimidation (as the pair were certainly intimidating) Prompto kept his eyes trained on Noctis, not wanting to appear cowardly before the prince. “You have been feeding my papa, haven’t you?” The question has a hint of humour in it, but Noctis narrows his eyes nevertheless.

“ ** _Ardyn_** is welcome to the kitchen whenever he pleases. The staff hardly ever see him, though. We don’t even know if he actually eats. All he ever does is re-fill his flask…”

Prompto bit his lip in concern, his teeth puncturing the soft flesh. Ardyn had a tendency to forego eating, although he never seemed to lose weight or become unhealthy. When Prompto was a child, the man would say he got all of his required nutrients from his flask, which contained a healthy potion. As Prompto grew however, he learnt otherwise.

_I can’t help but still feel worried when he doesn’t eat…_

“It would have been nice if you invited him to dinner as well.” Prompto replied primly, as one of the dishes was settled carefully before him. It had a heavenly aroma, and Prompto found his mouth watering. Suddenly, his stomach seemed aware of the lack of food it had been getting recently, and rumbled loudly.

The woman who was serving him (Crowe, his mind provided) snickered, and Noctis shot her an icy look at her lack of professionalism.

“Sorry.” Prompto felt compelled to apologise. “I didn’t realise I was so hungry…”

“Don’t worry, Prompto. This isn’t some formal affair.”

Prompto smirked wryly. “Your head of household would disagree.”

Noctis waved a hand flippantly. “Forget about Iggy. He can be such a stick in the mud sometimes. I suppose _he’s_ the reason you’re dressed up?”

Prompto shifted self-consciously. “Is it that obvious?”

_He probably thinks I look ridiculous…_

 Noctis nodded, and returned the smirk. “Yep. You know why? Because he made **_me_** dress up this evening as well. I wanted to come in my regular clothes, but he practically forced me into this attire…” He gestured at his princely outfit, and Prompto immediately relaxed. “I’m sorry if he made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Do I look uncomfortable in this?”

“You look _beautiful._ ” Noctis complimented, in a hasty breath. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured into dressing up when you don’t want to. This is your home as well, after all…” The prince scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and Prompto found the bashful display incredibly endearing.

“That’s sweet of you.” Prompto said, in kind reassurance. “But I think I’ll be fine. So long as I don’t need to dress like this all of the time.”

Noctis’s shoulders slumped in relief, and he picked up his spoon, fumbling for a moment. He lost his grip on the shiny utensil, and it fell into the dish with a clatter, splashing him with the elaborate mixture within. He wiped the liquid free of his face, and Prompto couldn’t help but giggle at his clumsiness. “Uh…” The prince was now steadily turning puce. “Um…”

_“Honestly.”_ They heard Ignis sigh. The man had been observing them carefully.

The prince hurriedly picked up a folded napkin, but in his haste to mop up his face, he accidentally elbowed the dish, causing a majority of the hot meal to slop onto his lap. He hissed in pain at the heat, and Prompto, filled with mirth, couldn’t hold back a humoured snort. He clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back his laughter, but wasn’t very successful, wheezed giggles escaping. He felt bad for laughing, but it was just-

**_So funny._ ** _This has to be the worst example of a prince!_

Noctis shot him a moody pout. “Mean, Prompto. _Mean_.”

“I-I’m sorry!” Prompto managed to get out. “It’s just…”

“You think it’s funny, huh?” Noctis cut in flatly. “I guess it’s good you aren’t disgusted…” He muttered to himself, before adopting a devious grin. In a lightning fast movement, he picked up a crust of freshly baked bread, before tossing it hard at Prompto’s face.  It smacked into his forehead with a hard impact, and he gasped, momentarily alarming Noctis, who looked instantly apologetic. “Prompto, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ His sentence was interrupted when the bread was lobbed back, whacking him on the nose.

“Ha!” Prompto exclaimed triumphantly. “Take that!”

“You little bastard!” Noctis crumpled the soft bread in his hand, but before he could toss it again, Ignis was swooping down on the pair in fierce disapproval, whacking Noctis over the back of the head angrily.

“That is _quite_ enough!” He ordered, with a supremely displeased expression. “The two of you aren’t children, and it is _ridiculous_ you are behaving as such!”

Prompto averted his eyes in shame, but Noctis couldn’t wipe the grin from his face.

“I **_slaved_ ** over the oven preparing this lobster bisque, and baked that bread fresh exactly for this first course, only for you disrespectful, _rude_ little imps to-“

“I’m really sorry Ignis.” Prompto bowed his head in apology, feeling a surge of guilt. “I got carried away. I won’t behave so childishly again. Your food looks delicious…”

“It **_is_** delicious.” Ignis said tartly, with raised eyebrows. “I uphold high standards in that kitchen. Only the most delectable of meals are suitable for his highness.” The man sent the prince a severe look here. “If you don’t behave yourself, you’ll be having steamed _carrots_ for the next course, Noct.”

The prince twisted his face into a comical look of disgust at the threat. “We were just playing around, Ignis.” He tried to defend weakly, although he ultimately withered at Ignis’s responding glower. “Right. No more having fun. Sorry.”

“Highness-“

But Noctis was picking up his abandoned spoon once more, and dipping it into the newly named ‘Lobster Bisque’. He raised the utensil to his mouth, and slurped up the mixture.

Ignis grimaced at the poor manners, but refrained from commenting. He peered at Prompto expectantly, and the blond immediately imitated the prince. Upon sampling the bisque, he let out a delighted moan.

_This is the best thing I’ve **ever** tasted. _

“This is _amazing_ ,” Prompto said, spooning up another mouthful eagerly. “How did you make something with lobster so far from the ocean?”

_Surely seafood can’t stay fresh for too long in this castle…_

“Such trivial matters are not your concern, Prompto. Focus on enjoying the meal.”

“Yes sir…” Prompto mumbled, but obeyed gladly nevertheless. He finished the small bowl of bisque in hardly any time, and inwardly wished for more. However, he knew requesting more would be rude, and if Ignis was as good of a cook as he boasted, the next course would be _just_ as delectable. “Noct, you have an _awesome_ chef.”

Ignis seemed to take pride in the indirect praise, his chest puffing out in the slightest movement. He clapped his hands shortly, and the two members of staff seemingly re-appeared from nowhere, brandishing two more dishes.

They eyed the prince and his guest with open amusement, and Prompto was relieved to note that some of the aggression had faded, replaced with humour. Cleary they found their immature antics to be rather hilarious. Which, Prompto supposed _, it would be,_ considering Noctis was supposed to be a sophisticated prince and not a volatile young man…

_But maybe I don’t want a dazzling prince. At least not all of the time._

Sure, Noctis was undeniably breathtaking when behaving in a suitably royal manner, but there was something so much more endearing when he was open, displaying parts of himself he usually kept concealed from others. Likely, he only revealed this side of himself to those he trusted implicitly.

And Prompto was one of them.

It was indirect flattery. Unintentional, but _exceedingly_ affective. It made his cheeks redden and his heart thump painfully in his chest. Seeing the prince in such a personal way was enough to make him feel _very_ flustered…

_What would Papa say?_

Prompto didn’t even want to _contemplate_ what Ardyn would say if he knew how Prompto was currently thinking. The man was hardly stern in a completely serious manner, but when he showed his true temper, he was a frightful sight to behold. Prompto hated witnessing it, _especially_ when Ardyn’s ire was directed at him. He could already hear his hiss…

**(“Doltish child, have I taught you _nothing_?”)**

Trust no one but his father. The rest had not-so innocuous intentions for him. Others would hurt him, others would _use_ him. Others would treat him like dirt because of his heritage and his adoptive parent…

Ardyn had never called him dirt. He’d never implied it, either. Prompto just had self-worth issues. They’d developed at a startlingly young age, and hadn’t faded much over time, despite his father’s indulgent affection. They were still here now, whispering toxic thoughts in his ear and causing him to shift uncomfortably. Their voices didn’t sound anything like Ardyn’s…

(“Why would he want **_you_**?”)

(“When he could have anyone he wanted…”)

(“The only reason he’s even _remotely_ interested in you is because you’re his only option left…”)

(“If a beautiful maiden presented herself right now, he’d toss you from the palace completely, without so much as a farewell.”)

(“I bet he’s secretly repulsed by you. You aren’t nearly as attractive as everyone else here…”)

(“Do you think he badmouths you behind your back? Do you think they snicker at your complete lack of anything special?”)

(“Cindy thought you were hilarious. I bet they do, too.”)

_I’m unremarkable. There’s nothing I can give him that someone else can’t, but **better.**_

“Is it not to your liking?” Noctis’s voice interrupts Prompto’s sudden bout of self-doubt, his eyebrows furrowing in concern at the other male’s distant expression. He’s already hungrily consumed his own dish, and has clearly been observing Prompto for a while now.

Prompto felt horrendously embarrassed. Both at his wandering mind, and his rudeness. He could see Ignis rolling his tongue, likely irritated that the commoner wasn’t appreciating his fine dining skills. “Not at all!” Prompto denied desperately. For the first time, he fully took in the dish before him, and the elaborate presentation of the mouth-watering meal. He hadn’t known food could look so beautiful. Ignis was truly a culinary genius… “I was just…my mind was preoccupied.” He admitted, hoping not to be pressed.

Fortunately, Noctis seemed to pick up on Prompto’s reluctance to discuss his distraction, and moved on from the topic without another word. “That is called a _Royal Banquet Canape._ It’s one of Iggy’s most elaborate recipes. Expensive to make, as well.”

Prompto felt guilty to know such effort was being made for _him._ He wasn’t worthy of it…

Still, he forced a smile, and lifted up the elegant canape, foregoing the knife and fork to bite into it directly. Ignis grimaced at this, but Prompto was too busy enjoying the taste to care. “OhmyAstrals…” He managed to get out around a mouthful. He chewed slowly, savouring the taste. “I’m having a mouth orgasm…”

Noctis laughed in a stunned manner. “That’s an apt way to describe Ignis’s cooking, I guess.” The prince turned a mischevious grin on the appalled appearing advisor. “Wow, Iggy. How does it feel to know you give someone _other_ than Gladio an orgasm? Involving a mouth other than your own, as well…”

Prompto choked on his final mouthful of the canape, hacking to clear his airway. There went the last of Noctis’s princely persona. He was acting like a typical crude male. It was hilarious, although Ignis looked ready to throttle the prince, or drown him in the bowl of water that had been provided to wash their hands between courses…

“If it weren’t for our guest, and my hard work in the kitchen,” Ignis said, with wavering dignity. “I would be serving you carrots for every course, Noct. Dessert, as well.”

“Aw, c’mon, Iggy. I’m just having fun.”

“If you yearn for a jester, perhaps you ought to request Ardyn, instead.” Ignis is clipped, but he thinned his lips when Prompto abruptly pushed his empty plate away, immediately realising he had upset the sensitive blond. “Prompto-“

“Is that how you see my father? A jester trapped here merely for your own amusement?” He’s fuming, and unable to stop his rising temper. He may have been able to deal with people badmouthing him, but he couldn’t tolerate such slander towards his papa. His good-humour has deflated him much like a helium balloon with a hole, and he comes down from his elated high with a hard **_SLAM._**

Actually, that’s his palms meeting the table. So sturdy and well-made, it doesn’t buckle under the sudden movement, but the cutlery at least shakes. The motion is loud in the suddenly silent room, and he sees the two servers peek into the room at the echoing sound. He can’t bring himself to feel scared by their battle-stance. He’s tired, and confused, and he wishes that this evening could have continued on its magical path…

But it wasn’t meant to be. _Not yet_ , and maybe not ever. Prompto may have felt undeniably connected (and attracted) to Noctis, but they still didn’t know much about one another. If Noctis knew him well, he would know better than to badmouth Ardyn. Or, more aptly, know to warn _others_ about badmouthing Ardyn. The prince certainly wasn’t running to Ardyn’s defence. If anything, he seemed to find what Ignis suggested _funny._

_It isn’t acceptable. Attraction and fun be damned, I won’t let **anyone** be unkind to Papa!_

And clearly, their misunderstanding is mutual. A two-way street, because Noctis appears just as frustrated as Prompto, clearly annoyed that their happy evening has been disrupted by Prompto’s sensitivity. Prompto knows it seems unreasonable to him, but doesn’t care to explain himself. Why bother? Noctis’s home-life had always been drastically different to his own. Even without a mother, Noctis had _always_ had more than his father.  

Prompto only had Ardyn, and he was just as protective as the man himself was.

“It was just a joke.” Noctis’s voice is flat, unamused. “You don’t need to overreact.”

Prompto can see through that explanation as if it were completely transparent. “Don’t lie, Noct. I know you thought what Ignis said was funny. I saw it in your eyes.” Belatedly, he realises he’s called the prince by his nickname, but he can’t take it back now. He’d just look pathetic. Instead, he decides to overcompensate by using it in a sarcastic manner from here on out. At least until the prince forgets about their fleeting familiarity.

“So what if I did?” Noctis challenged, abandoning his patience with the same kind of ease he used when disregarding his princely role. “I’m trying to be nice about him because of you, but you _do_ know what he is, right?”

“The former chancellor of Niflheim.” Prompto replied, with acidity. “His former occupation does not worry me, **_Noct._** ” He spat the prince’s name with blatant disdain. “People change. You of all people should know that.”

“Not him.” Noctis shakes his head slowly, and Prompto gets the impression that the other male is also trying to _reason_ with him, like he’s some caged captive to Ardyn. A victim of Stockholm Syndrome. “If you knew what he’s done, you’d be **_gagging_** on your owl bile…”

“Opposed to gagging at your insufferable behaviour?” Prompto shoots back, snarky. He’s begun fidgeting with his bracelet, and feels his identification mark itch on his skin. He wants to scratch it until it bleeds, a typical response to stress of this kind. Ardyn usually prevents him from mutilating himself… “I’ve lost my appetite.” Despite the urge to stomp from the room without another word, he feels compelled to be grateful for the food. It had been wonderful, after all. Prompto only wished he could have eaten more… “Thank you for all your hard-work, Ignis. It really paid off. I haven’t eaten such high-calibre meals before.”

Ignis is vaguely alarmed. “Surely you are still hungry, Prompto. You haven’t had the main course, and the other two dishes were made to whet your appetite for more-“

“I’ll be fine.” Prompto interrupted, his politeness reaching the end of its tether. “I don’t need any of you to coddle me. If I get hungry later, I’ll grab a crust of bread from the kitchen, or something. _If_ I’m allowed…” He arched an eyebrow pointedly at Noctis, but Ignis was the one who answered, much to Prompto’s disappointment. It would be nice to receive permission from the prince himself, even if they _were_ arguing.

“Of course. We have no intention of letting you go hungry. It would be most inhospitable.” He glanced at Noctis sharply. “ _Right,_ Highness?”

“Right.” Noctis grumbled down at his empty plate. He had an air of petulance about him, but Prompto no longer found it endearing. He found it _obnoxious._

**_He’s_ ** _the one who ruined this dinner, yet I’m the one being made to feel like the bad guy!_

Perhaps Prompto was being harsh. But in that moment…

His tiredness was outweighing his hunger.

“If not,” Noctis went on, looking up with fire dancing in his blue eyes. “Go ahead and **_starve.”_**

Prompto scoffed. “Real mature, _Your Highness._ I’d rather die of emaciation than share another meal with your arrogant ass.”

“That’s a shame since you don’t eat proper meals without me.”

“Is that a threat?”

Noctis didn’t deem him with a response, instead addressing Ignis. “If he doesn’t eat with me, he doesn’t eat at all.”

Ignis frowned. “Of all the childish-“

“I am the prince, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but-“

“Then listen to me, _Chamberlain._ ” Noctis glowered stormily. “It’s an order.”

Looking like he was sucking on a lemon, Ignis gave a short, respectful bow. “Very well, Your Highness.” He looked to Prompto expressionlessly, although there was apology swimming in their depths. “Prompto, as a guest, you must adhere to Noctis’s rules. From now on someone will be stationed outside of your door at all times. You will eat with the prince, when summoned. And the prince…” Ignis turned to Noctis with distaste. “Will cease his napping, to consume meals at the appropriate intervals usually reserved for eating.”

“But Ignis-“

“Come, Prompto. I’m sure you wish to retire.”

Prompto nodded, but wouldn’t leave before sending Noctis a venomous look. “You are unbelievable.” He stated bluntly. “The way you just treated your friend was _abominable._ I can’t believe I liked you, even for a moment…” Shaking his head at his own stupidity, the blond dismissed himself. “Goodnight, Noct. I hope your dreams bring you some happiness, because you won’t be getting it awake with that piss-poor attitude.” He intended to stalk from the room in a dignified fashion, but was grasped on the elbow by Ignis.

The man sent him an admonishing look, before practically dragging him from the dining room. They heard the sound of glass breaking behind them, likely the result of Noctis losing his temper completely, and Ignis gestured harshly for Nyx and Crowe to re-enter the room. “Clear away the dishes,” He commanded shortly. “And if he’s still hungry after his tantrum, give him _stewed carrots_.”

Crowe quirked a dark eyebrow. “I’m taking it that the date backfired?”

“To say the least.” Nyx added, upon hearing another crash. “I haven’t seen him like this since the tenth anniversary of his father’s death…”

“Do not try and handle him. Or engage him.”

Crowe held up her hands in defeat. “No problem for me. I hate whiny brats.”

“Nyx?”

Nyx sighed tiredly, rubbing his face. “Should we send Gladiolus in, at least? He can always handle the kid when he’s angry.”

“Knows how to knock some sense into him, more like.” Crowe added.

“I don’t want Gladio getting physical with Noct. Ask him to speak with him, instead.”

Crowe and Nyx both saluted in understanding, before marching into the dining room without another word, preparing to deal with the infuriated prince.

“How can you deal with that?” Prompto inquired, when Ignis began leading him back to his bedroom. “He’s a total bastard-“

Ignis stopped abruptly, and his grip on Prompto’s forearm tightened just short of painful. “ ** _Never_** call Noctis a bastard, Argentum. His father was a great man, and an even greater ruler!”

The use of his last name smarted, and Prompto couldn’t help his barbed retort. “If he was so great, why didn’t he raise a better son?” He managed to pull away, avoiding Ignis’s stare. “Prince Noctis will make a horrible king. I almost wish he would stay trapped here forever, just to spare everyone else the inevitable trouble and heartache…”

“You don’t know Noctis at all.”

“No.” Prompto agreed. “And I don’t want to. Goodnight, Mr Scientia. I can make my own way back.” His voice is resolute. He won’t be persuaded otherwise.

“Ignis is fine.” The chamberlain says, but there is reluctant acceptance on his face. “If you’re sure you won’t get lost…”

“I’m not _that_ helpless.”

Ignis angles him a sceptical look, but Prompto elects to ignore it. He wants to be aloof, just this once. “It would be best not to wander. Understand?”

Prompto blinked angelically. “How could I? I’ll have a chaperone stationed outside of my quarters, right? It’ll be _impossible_ for me to explore…”

“Your ‘chaperone’ will not be easily dissuaded from their task, Prompto.”

“I know.” Prompto said.

_But that doesn’t mean I can’t trick them. Or better yet, convince them. Papa doesn’t say my eyes are adorable just for the sake of flattery. If I widen them just right…_

He called it his ‘pathetic kicked puppy’ look. It tended to work in most situations.

“Then I bid you goodnight.” The man seemed exhausted, and Prompto softened, as he always inevitably did in the throes of his own anger. The exception being Noctis, apparently….

“Ignis.” He said softly, and the man cocked his head in question. “The food really _was_ amazing. Thank you for giving me the fine dining experience.” He angled him a small smile. “I’m sorry your hard work was ruined.”

Ignis returned the smile slightly. “It isn’t ruined, so long as you enjoyed it. I appreciate your feedback. It’s a shame you didn’t get to eat the other courses…” Then, in a conspiring manner, Ignis looked down the hall, before whispering to Prompto quietly. “I meant what I said earlier about you not going hungry. I’ll send someone trustworthy to give you the rest of your meal once His Highness is sufficiently distracted.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to get into trouble-“

“Noctis isn’t a monster, Prompto. Once he simmers down, he’ll regret his actions. He’ll apologise, as well. On his _own_ behalf.” Ignis reached out and touched Prompto’s shoulder briefly. “I know he can be difficult, but he _is_ a good man. Allow him another chance, to show you. He’ll exceed your expectations.”

“I don’t even want to consider that right now. But…” Prompto couldn’t disappoint Ignis when he looked so hopeful. “I’ll try, okay? I know I didn’t act that well tonight either…”

Ignis smirked wryly. “So long as I don’t have to lecture _you_ , as well. Goodnight, Prompto.”

“…Goodnight Ignis.”

“Oh, and before I forget, I believe you have a visitor in your quarters.”

Prompto didn’t know whether to feel relieved, or reluctant. Was Ardyn still angry about their brief quarrel earlier? If so, he didn’t have the energy to keep arguing…

“If you need any assistance, just ask for our help. We will not disappoint you.”

“I can handle my papa, Ignis. I’ve been doing it since infanthood.”

“It doesn’t hurt to offer though, does it?”

“No.” Prompto admitted with a sigh of his own. “It doesn’t. I better go see him. He gets impatient sometimes when I dawdle…”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Reading this back makes me realise how dramatic this chapter is! But I kind of think it's better for there to be a bit of drama opposed to them falling immediately in love or outright hating each other's guts. I think Prompto would be a little conflicted :)
> 
> Next chapter is about a quarter done. I should hopefully post it soon. I hope you enjoyed this mess of emotions. 
> 
> THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed and left Kudos. In regards to the second set of notes (which I only just realised have been popping up on every chapter opposed to just the first) thanks for the responses to that as well. Sorry for any confusion it may have caused. Please tell me what you think about this chapter!
> 
> Have a nice day/night wherever you are!


	10. Protects, persists, and perseveres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto comes to a realization, and resolves to be more understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....hi.
> 
> I know this update is really late, but life has been pretty hectic lately so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I only just got around to playing Episode Prompto, and it was totally awesome!
> 
> Anyhow, I never meant for this story to last for this long, so I'm going to start mapping out where it's going, and where it's going to end. 
> 
> Hopefully I should have a new chapter soon!
> 
> Please enjoy ^_^

 

* * *

 

 

When Prompto sees Ardyn standing in his chambers, the emotions of the day overwhelm him, and he can’t help flinging himself at the man, wrapping his arms around the man’s chest like a frightened child. “Papa!” He cries, without his own consent. “I’m so sorry! I should have listened to you!”

Ardyn, for his part, looks grimly satisfied, and doesn’t bother to hide it. He merely pets Prompto’s hair with a knowing smirk, cooing in sympathy when the boy babbles about his disastrous dinner with the prince. He’s glad to know it failed even without his not-so-divine intervention. Noctis truly **_was_** hopeless. Prompto wasn’t that hard to impress, and the prince had still failed to win his favour… “There, there.” He consoled, threading his fingers through Prompto’s golden curls. He had to admit, he liked the boy’s natural hair better than his styled spikes. He looked more innocent, this way. More like the _child_ he had found than the _boy_ he had raised. “I forgive you, pet. I know how deceitful that horrid prince can be.”

Technically, that’s a lie. Ardyn doubts Noctis boasts the intelligence to be truly deceitful, but Prompto doesn’t need to know that. He just needs to know his papa has his best interests at heart. **_Like always._**

“He seemed so friendly,” Prompto murmured against Ardyn’s chest. The man’s scent was familiar and soothing, and he felt his eyelids fluttering sleepily. “He’s funny, too. He made me laugh. He made me feel…” Prompto trails off with an exhausted huff. “It doesn’t matter. You were right. As usual.”

“I am glad you are seeing sense, my sunflower. I do so loath when you’re difficult.” Ardyn drawls this with a hint of humour, and ruffles the boy’s hair when he notices his tired state. “Now, off to bed with you.” When Prompto made a complaining whine, the man’s smirk widened. “Oh, you poor babe. Do you want Papa to tuck you in?”

Prompto flushed at this, and pushed the man away abruptly. “ ** _No._** ” He denied, with flaming cheeks. “I’m an independent _adult._ I don’t need you coddling me like that.”

Ardyn raised his eyebrows loftily, and Prompto turned his back on the man’s knowing eyes, slumping into the wardrobe to find a pair of suitable pyjamas. He was only half-way inside when Ardyn cleared his throat pointedly.

“Don’t tell me you picked out my pyjamas…” Prompto groaned, scrubbing at his aching face. His entire body felt heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse in the exquisitely comfortable looking bed. “I am _not_ a little kid.”

“Alas, such a task was robbed from my paternal clutches tonight.” Ardyn said dramatically, and when Prompto rolled his eyes, his entire head throbbed with the effort. “It appears Lady Lunafreya has dutifully selected a silken nightdress for you.”

_That_ was enough to wake Prompto up somewhat. His blue eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped. “What!?” He strode back over to the bed, and saw that Ardyn was telling the truth. Not only had Luna chosen a silken nightdress, it was also a flimsy, _lacy_ nightdress, the kind Prompto saw girls wear in lingerie magazines…

_Obviously she collaborated with Aranea in her choice._

The design was clearly the watchwoman’s, whereas the materials must have been Luna’s preference. Why hadn’t the pair selected a simple pair of flannel pyjamas? Sure, they weren’t attractive, but there was _no way_ Prompto would wear a girly nightgown to bed…

“You don’t like it?” There is sadistic amusement dancing across Ardyn’s face. “Our dear oracle must have thought you’d look quite fetching. I _am_ curious to see how you’d pull it off, you would have made a sweet daughter…”

Prompto bites his tongue, holding back a litany of insults. Losing his cool was what Ardyn _wanted._ The man was evidently content to torment him tonight, likely as a form of petty revenge for Prompto’s rude treatment of him earlier. If Prompto was smart however, like the man had taught him to be…

He could turn this entire situation around. Until _he_ was the one snickering.

“Oh really?” He crosses his arms as casually as he can manage, and Ardyn’s eyebrows raise impossibly further at his calmness. He’d been expecting Prompto to get flustered. “Perhaps I _should_ try it on. Although I doubt _you’d_ be my intended audience. I think Lady Lunafreya had someone else in mind. Someone…princely?”

Ardyn’s eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched.

Prompto inwardly applauded his own cunningness. Ardyn, for all his unpredictability, could always be counted upon to react the same way when it involved Prompto. Prompto had learned this over their years spent together. “I mean…” He reached out a hand, and traced the soft silk with a vague hum. “He might think I look sweet as well. He might even,” Prompto hushed his voice here, a smirk of his own tugging at his lips. “Want to _taste_ me.” He whispered the last three words, and relished in the rage washing over Ardyn’s face.

_Temporarily._

Temporarily, as Ardyn snarled, and abruptly seized the nightdress, ripping the delicate piece to bits with his own bare hands. The fabric fell in tatters to the floor, and Prompto gawked at the furious display. He felt a little bad that the nightdress was ruined, but he was mostly intimidated by Ardyn’s obvious ire. He’d just been teasing the man harmlessly…

“The only thing that _brat_ will be tasting if he takes a step near you is his _own blood!”_ Ardyn hissed this out through gritted teeth, and stalked into the wardrobe, re-appearing a moment later with a pair of decidedly unflattering plaid pyjamas. He tossed them at Prompto, and they slapped onto his face. The man was too annoyed to even apologise for his brash treatment. “Get yourself changed and **_get into bed,_** you foolish child. This isn’t a silly game for you to play!”

“You were the one who started it!” Prompto pointed out, with wavering braveness. “I was just playing along, like always! You don’t need to get angry-“

“ _Angry?_ You have not even glimpsed my _anger_ , Prompto. I reserve it for those who truly deserve my scorn. Do you wish to become one of those people?”

Prompto huffed, feeling resignation sweep through his body. He had never seen Ardyn behave so unstable. It seemed being confined to the castle was really getting to the man. He needed to break the curse, and soon. Who knew what the man would be reduced to if he stayed caged too long? Ardyn despised being stuck in one place. He was a free-spirit, consumed with wanderlust, he’d never stayed more than a couple of months in the same location before. At least not when Prompto was with him. Would his sanity unravel?

Prompto’s might, if he didn’t get some rest soon. He wanted to be kind to his father, but he yearned to snuggle under the covers and drift off away from reality. He needed that reprieve to cope with his situation. To gather himself and replenish. “I can’t do this now.” Prompto says this in a defeated manner, rubbing his face. There’s bread crumbs flaked underneath his fingernails, but he doesn’t have the energy to prepare another bath. “I feel like if I don’t sleep soon I might collapse. Please, can we save this argument for tomorrow? I might be more receptive to your irritation then…” He gives a weak smile, and slumps his shoulders when Ardyn sighs, but gives a jerky, reluctant nod nevertheless. _“Thank you.”_

“Are you hungry?” It’s a terse question as Prompto pulls back the covers, and slips inside the soft sheets. “I’m taking it dinner ended prematurely. Would you like me to fetch you something? I don’t want you sleeping on an empty stomach.”

_That’s my father._

Prompto notes this with relief. “I’m okay, Papa. Can you stay until I fall asleep?” It’s a childish request, but Ardyn is a safe presence to him, even in his anger. He is a reassuring figure, one that will protect Prompto in his sleep and sooth any potential nightmares. Besides, his company was welcome. Prompto had been alone for a while, after all.

_I’m being selfish, to ask this. And infantile. I’m supposed to be an **adult.** _

“Why is adulting so hard?” Prompto bemoaned, as Ardyn took a seat on the plush armchair beside the bed. “This sucks…”

“Don’t whine.” Ardyn berated, although there was a hint of amusement in his tone. “Perhaps you’d feel more mature if you used proper language. ‘Adulting’ isn’t a word, Prompto.”

“Then why do people use it?” He mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut. He felt like cement was weighing them down. “I hear people say ‘adulting’ all of the time.”

“Foolish, inarticulate youths, you mean. If it isn’t in the dictionary, it isn’t a real word.” Ardyn stated, with the utmost certainty. “Children these days…”

Prompto wanted to make a witty remark about Ardyn demonstrating his true age, but found his mouth slackening, and his mind floating away into a restful sleep. He was dimly aware that the man was still prattling on about the idiocy of youth, but the words blurred together into undistinguishable noise as his body went lax. Prompto would deal with the ramifications of his actions in the morning, when he felt aware enough to adequately process them.

“Sleep now, Prompto.”

And Prompto obeyed his father.

 

* * *

 

When Prompto awakes the next morning, he is acutely aware that he is not alone. At first he presumes his father is still nearby, but a sardonic female voice speaks, proving otherwise.

“I heard dinner was a disaster.”

Prompto sighed, and rolled over onto his other side, burrowing his head into one of the soft pillows. Despite the chaotic events of the previous night, he’d slept wonderfully. He wants to fall back asleep now, surrounded in a cocoon of warm blankets, but knows that with Aranea in the room, that won’t be possible. The woman sounds vaguely displeased with him, and he knows she won’t hesitate to call him out for his behaviour the previous night.

And now that he’s more rested, he feels somewhat embarrassed.

_I was hoping last night was just some kind of vivid nightmare._

With a clearer head, Prompto knows he didn’t conduct himself in a proper manner.

Even if Noctis had offended him, it still didn’t excuse him flying off the handle like that. He should have expressed his displeasure in a more mature manner, instead of antagonising his host. It wasn’t like the blond to lose his temper like that, but he’d been volatile, and combining that with the prince insulting his father…

_I was petty last night. I should be **better** than that. I should have been a little more forgiving with the prince, as well. He was trying so hard last night to make dinner pleasant…_

“I know the prince can be a jackass sometimes, kid, and that’s bad, but you could at least cut him a little slack. Things haven’t been easy for him either, you know.”

“He put himself in this position.” Prompto reminded in a mumble. “He wouldn’t be cursed if he wasn’t such a ‘jackass’…”

“He’s been through a lot, you know. For some reason I thought you’d be a little sympathetic.”

“And I thought you were blatantly honest, not overprotective.”

“Everyone in this castle is a little overprotective of Noctis. He’s the heir to the Lucian throne, after all. He needs to rule, and we don’t want him to suffer unduly, either. His father wouldn’t want that for him…”

Prompto recalls mentioning the man the previous night, and grimaces. He hadn’t needed to stoop down to Noctis’s level. He wanted to be above that. He wanted _Noctis_ to be above that. “I understand that, but-“

“I’m not trying to make you feel horrible, Prompto.” Aranea said starkly. “Most people have relationship hiccups when they first get to know each other. It’s part of the process. I am, no, _all of us_ , are just asking you to be a little more lenient in the future. I know Noctis can be difficult, but he _is_ trying. I know he feels like shit after what happened last night, and not just because of how he treated _you._ He holds a great deal of respect for Ignis. He doesn’t make a habit of being so rude to him, and when he does slip-up, Gladio makes sure he is thoroughly reprimanded for it.”

“Am I going to be reprimanded by Gladio?”

Aranea smirked wryly. “No, you’re being reprimanded by _me_ , instead. You kids need to watch your sorry arses before someone kicks them. This is our castle, as well. _Our home_. We have a right to make sure it isn’t overrun by such a chaotic atmosphere.”

Prompto hadn’t thought much about how the other inhabitants of the castle might feel with he and Noctis bickering so destructively, and now that he was urged to contemplate his actions, he realised it was terribly rude of him to neglect thinking about the other people who lived in the castle. He was a guest, not an active member of the household. He needed to respect the others who lived here, not just the prince. They had welcomed him, despite their rocky history with Ardyn. Sure, they may have had ulterior motives, but they made a conscious effort to make him feel comfortable. “I’ll try harder.” Prompto said decisively.

“You don’t need to push yourself, Prompto. Just be a little more mindful, okay? I know Ardyn is your father, but that doesn’t change the history he has with all of us. Think on that before you get so recklessly defensive. Past wounds can’t be patched up in the span of a mere month. Patience is required. To get a lot, you have to _give a little_.”

Reluctantly, Prompto had to admit that the woman was making sense. Ardyn wasn’t an innocent victim of verbal abuse. He’d done something _despicable_. Prompto had always known the man was capable of cruelty, but he’d always been such a **_doting father._** Prompto had pushed away his concerns for the man’s morality since he was so devoted to him. Because he loved him, in the pure, unadulterated way a child loved their parent.

But not everyone could push his cruelty away.

Prompto saw beneath his cruelty. He saw past his dubious morality. He ignored any and all signs that the man wasn’t the perfect father. Ardyn was different, with him.

_It doesn’t matter what happened in the past._

No. It didn’t matter what happened in the past, **_for him._**

_I can’t expect everyone to believe the same as me. They have no reason to believe. They haven’t seen the best of Ardyn yet. But…_

**_I will make them see._ **

Prompto would be patient, and understanding, and he would do his best to show everyone in this castle that Ardyn deserved a second-chance. For as long as they were both tethered here. “I won’t let you down, Aranea.” Prompto promised. “I’ll be better.”

Aranea sighed. “You don’t have to be ‘better’ Prompto. Just more lenient.” She headed for the door, and stood in the threshold. “You should get your skinny ass up. Breakfast will be ready soon. Ignis doesn’t appreciate lateness, even from guests.”

“Okay…” Prompto yawned, and pushed himself onto his elbows. “I’ll see you later?”

Aranea snorted. “Doubt it. _Some_ people have work to do. You’d be surprised by how many idiots wander into Insomnia and try to invade the castle to loot. Not to mention the daemons that have started hanging around more…”

“I thought daemons only came out at night.”

“Shows how naïve you are. Daemons may be more active during the night, but they are certainly around during the day. The crystal has gotten weaker, which means they’re venturing out of the ruins of Insomnia and closer to the castle. It’s hard work to dispose of them all, but I’m not one to complain. It stops me from getting complacent.”

“What are they like?” Prompto questioned, elaborating when the woman cocked her head. “The daemons, I mean. Even though Papa and I have camped in some pretty isolated places, I’ve never seen one.”

“You should ask your papa about that one.” Aranea recommended slyly, and then slipped from the room altogether, leaving Prompto with his thoughts.   

_Why would Papa know about the habits of daemons? Did he study them once? He’s never really mentioned them before, asides from the occasional offhand comment._

Resolving to question the man later, Prompto forced himself to slip from the devilishly comfortable sheets, his bare feet thudding onto the floor. Sometime during the night, the fire had gone down to flickering embers, and the chamber was a little chillier in the absence of the roaring flames. He went straight to the bathroom, intending to warm his bones with a quick wash, before he realised that he needed to heat the water manually. Doing so would take time, and he didn’t have much to spare before breakfast.

_I guess I’ll just use cold water from the basin. It wouldn’t be the first time._

Quickly, and efficiently, Prompto went about the process of mopping himself up with the cold water from the basin, using a soft cloth to do the job. He hadn’t sweated heavily through the night, but washing in the morning was a routine Ardyn had instilled in him. Keeping clean was keeping healthy, in the man’s medical opinion.

(“You would be surprised to find how many people get gravely ill from unsanitary living conditions.”)

(“Our lifestyle is hardly unsanitary.”)

(“It is always wise to take precautions. Now hurry up and wash in the stream. There will be no supper for you otherwise.”)

(“So…if I don’t wash then I don’t have to eat dinner?”)

(“Does such a prospect relieve you?”)

(“Um…no. Your cooking is _great._ Really.”)

Prompto smiles at the memory. Ardyn’s cooking had always left much to be desired. It was like he had no real sense of taste, and was only trying to copy dishes from memory alone.

_I wonder if he’ll be at breakfast this morning…_

Prompto wondered, rifling through one of his bags. The rest of his belongings had been brought to his room last night when he’d been at dinner, and he was going to wear something familiar, opposed to scouring through the giant wardrobe. He didn’t have the time to do that, nor the desire. His own clothing was perfectly fine.

_Besides, Noctis won’t care. He isn’t the superficial sort. And I don’t need to impress him, anyway._

Despite this resolute thought, Prompto took a little more care when styling his hair, and even spritzed on some of the (perfume? cologne?) that was sat in the bathroom. The floral scent made him sneeze, but he didn’t have time to wash it off. Now he just needed to clean his teeth, and he could go to breakfast…

 

* * *

 

Prompto was still late to breakfast, as he had trouble relocating the dining room. And when he did find it, he realised that the meal was being served in the kitchen, instead. Luckily Iris had been sent to find him, and led him to the kitchen.

The kitchen was bustling with activity, and Prompto tried to ignore the blatant stares as he took his seat at the table. Noctis was already present, but had refrained from eating until Prompto had arrived. As soon as the prince spotted him, he started piling his plate high. It occurred to Prompto that Ignis had likely refused to serve the prince anymore dinner after his behaviour the night previous…

If that were the case, then they were _both_ ravenous.

“Good morning.” Prompto greeted curtly, resolving to be the bigger person. He took his seat, and immediately reached for a pile of buttered toast, tossing a few slices onto his plate before grabbing for the platter of Behemoth bacon. His hand came into contact with Noctis’s own, and he pulled away as if scalded, scooping up a spoonful of eggs instead. He didn’t know what kind of creature they came from, but hoped it wasn’t from the chocobos.

“Good morning.” Noctis returned after a moment, in an insecure mumble. He shoved a handful of the bacon into his mouth, so he didn’t have to talk further.

“Manners, Highness.” Ignis chided, suddenly approaching the table with a large jug of what Prompto assumed to be freshly squeezed juice. The man had a flowery apron tied around his waist, and Prompto looked down to hide his amused grin. Unfortunately though, Ignis was incredibly observant. “A gag gift.” He explained, in a dry tone. “Gladio had Luna sew it for my last birthday. I am too grateful for her kindness to stop wearing it.”

“That, and Gladio loves him wearing it.” Noctis piped, swallowing his mouthful with a little difficulty. He hastily poured himself a glass of the greenish juice, chugging it down quickly. “He gets all gooey eyed. It’s kind of gross.”

Prompto appreciated that the prince was being good-humoured. Prompto was a funny guy, and he enjoyed his interactions having a healthy dose of humour. They flowed easier, that way, even if he was forced into playing the role of the clown more often than not. “They must enjoy playing house. Are you the nagging wife in the equation, Ignis?”

“I could play the role better by rapping you on the head with a ladle, if you’d like that.”

Prompto touched the top of his skull protectively. “No…that’s okay.” He angled Ignis a sunny smile, and was relieved when the man didn’t act on his threat. “This breakfast looks delicious. Thank you for cooking it.”

“I’m afraid breakfast is not my work, this morning. Crowe, Nyx, and Luna leant a hand whilst I was busy training with Gladio and his majesty.”

Now that Prompto had the nerve to look closer, he noticed that Noctis had a few bumps and bruises. He looked like he’d undergone a gruelling session.

“Well, tell them I appreciate it.” Prompto said, shovelling half of a perfectly shaped pancake into his mouth. The stack had already been drizzled with syrup and berries, and it satisfied his sweet-tooth considerably. Ardyn had _never_ let him eat food so sugary for breakfast. “I could get used to this.” He managed to say around his mouthful, syrup dribbling down his chin.

Ignis sighed at the display of poor manners, and passed the blond a pressed napkin. “Wipe your face, please. You make for an undignified sight.”

Prompto obeyed, messily mopping up his face without a hint of shame. If he were to be comfortable in the palace, he needed to be content behaving like himself. It would become exhausting if he tried to be someone he wasn’t all of the time. “I’m sorry I don’t meet your standards. I’m a commoner, after all.”

“That is no excuse for poor manners. Perhaps you require etiquette lessons.”

Noctis winced. “Iggy, no. Those things are comparable to _torture._ We shouldn’t _torture_ our guests. Besides, I’m sure Prompto has other things he wants to do…”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Prompto affirmed. He slopped some of the juice into his crystal glass, and took a sip before continuing. The two other men waited patiently. “This is really refreshing.” He grinned, and cleared his throat when they merely peered at him expectantly. “I want to start my researching today. I’d be grateful if I could get a tour of the library. This castle is so huge, I’d get lost if I tried to find it myself.”

“I can give you a tour.” Noctis sounds somewhat unsure, and vulnerable. Clearly he’s worried Prompto will turn him down. “If you let me…”

Prompto feels a twinge of sympathy. It is evident Noctis regrets his actions from the night previous, and Prompto feels the same way. “That would be nice.” He doesn’t comment on how Noctis’s shoulders slump in relief. “Can we go after breakfast?”

“Sure. I don’t have anything better to do. Asides from napping.”

Prompto gave a tentative smile upon hearing Noctis’s self-deprecating truth. The prince wasn’t trying to show off. That was promising.

The rest of breakfast was shared with relative silence, although many of the castle staff greeted Prompto in a friendly manner. The sole exception came in the form of Ravus, who stormed from the kitchen altogether in reaction to his presence, leaving behind his bowl of oatmeal and sliver of sourdough. Luna had apologised for her brother in an embarrassed manner, but Prompto hadn’t been overly offended. It only made sense that at least _one_ person didn’t approve of his presence. Not to mention, he had a feeling that Ardyn may have had something to do with Ravus’s missing arm…

Once their glasses were drained and their plates empty, the two young men stood from their seats, eyes shyly averted from one another. Wordlessly, Noctis began leading the way, and Prompto followed obediently.

 

* * *

 

The library…was indescribably elaborate.  

Located at one of the highest points in the castle, it was impossibly large, with sturdy bookshelves pressed against every wall, spreading to the high-domed ceiling. There was barely an inch between the plethora of books packed onto the shelves, and Prompto pitied the people who were tasked with keeping the library clean. It would be no easy feat.

Light beamed through the clear windows, lighting up the darkly coloured room, and bringing a sense of peace to the severe atmosphere. Prompto could readily picture the inhabitants of the castle here, browsing the shelves for any number of topics. They must have had at least _one_ book on any particular topic, given the sheer volume of the place.

“You can sit wherever you want.” Noctis said, gesturing at the plentiful amount of furniture. There were chairs of all varieties, some tucked underneath tables and desks, and even _lounges._ It was evident that the library was designed in a manner that would appeal to all sorts of people. “Wait, no _, nearly_ anywhere.” Noctis pointed at a table in the centre of the library. It was piled high with books, and littered with scrolls of parchment and papers. There was also an old typewriter set up, likely since the castle didn’t have the means to charge electronics anymore…

“That’s Ignis’s spot, right?” Prompto assumed. He elaborated when Noctis appeared confused. “He told me that he sees the library as his own personal domain. Don’t worry, I won’t encroach on his space.”

“Thank you.” Noctis grinned gratefully. “Iggy can be rather possessive of this place, but don’t worry, he’ll let you browse anything you like. We want you to feel welcome here, especially if you intend on using the library often…”

“I do intend to.” Prompto confirmed. “I’ll be here a lot, I think.” Prompto spun in a slow circle, swivelling his neck to better take everything in. “I underestimated the sheer size of this place. Who dusts all of these books? They need a pay-rise, just saying.”

“It’s no one’s favourite job, so we have a rotating roster for library duties.” Noctis grimaced. “It’s tedious work. I have to clean in here once every couple of weeks. So it’s fair, you know. Although sometimes I end up falling asleep standing upright…”

“That sounds like you, Noct.” Prompto uses the nickname without thinking, feeling a sort of fond exasperation for the prince. Many in Noctis’s position would order the boring duty of maintaining the library upon someone else, but the prince, lazy as he was, still pulled his weight like a true member of a family, even if he did so reluctantly.

“If you need help locating a particular book,” Noctis went on, a pleased pinkness to his cheeks upon hearing the nickname. “Ignis or Gladio would be your best bet of finding it. Same goes for a particular subject. Everything in this library has an order or place, but…I’m not the person who knows a lot about it.” Noctis appears sheepish here, and Prompto nudges him companionably. The considerable walk to the library had stemmed the awkwardness between them, and Prompto could almost forget about their altercation the night previous…

“Don’t worry, dude. I’m more of a comic book guy, myself. You still have to show me your collection. I bet a heap would be vintage, considering your, uh...age.”

_Now that I think about it, we may be around the same age physically, but how long has Noctis **been** like this? He could be **way** older than me…_

Noctis is oblivious to Prompto’s inward agonising. “Yeah. I have a lot of first editions. Some are signed, as well. We can check them out whenever you want.”

Prompto was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer immediately…

_Priorities, Prompto. **Priorities.** Ardyn’s freedom is more important than comics, awesome or otherwise. _

Still…

“How about tonight?” Prompto blurts, uncaring of how pathetically eager he sounds. He’s never been able to share his love of comics with anyone before. Sure, he’d blabbered about it to Ardyn, but the man held no love for comics. He preferred _‘books with substance’_.

In other words, Ardyn thought comics were silly, and that _Prompto_ was silly for liking them.

He never dissuaded him from reading them, of course. Ardyn had **_never_** outright mocked Prompto for his interests, he just thought Prompto childish.

“Unless you have any prior engagements…” Prompto added, when Noctis didn’t immediately reply.

Noctis snorted. “You caught me. I have a scintillating social calendar that I cannot divert from. I’ll have to have Ignis pencil you in for when I’m next available.”

“Aw. That’s a shame. I charged my laptop before I came, and I wanted to watch a few movies with you before it went flat…”  

“Hell yeah!” Noctis said excitedly, disregarding his sarcasm. “We can watch it in my room! Ignis can bring us snacks!”

Prompto couldn’t help but match his excitement, bouncing up and down energetically. “It can be a sleepover!” He’d never had a sleepover before. No one had ever invited him…

Realising the implication in his words, Prompto flushed.

“Just a normal sleepover!” He practically squeaked. “Nothing of the sexual variety!”

Noctis smirked in amusement. **_“Yet.”_** He teased, eyes twinkling mischievously. Then, he ruffled Prompto’s styled hair, ignoring the indignant squawk as he withdrew his hand and began heading out of the library. “I have some stuff to do. Have fun doing your research.”

Prompto’s reply was filled with expletives, and echoed throughout the library loud enough to make him cringe. When the prince was finally out of sight (chuckling all the while), Prompto collapsed onto a nearby lounge-chair, needing a moment to take everything in. It was hard to believe he’d been so furious at the prince the night previous…

_Why does he make me feel so **confused?**_

Needless to say, his confusion only increased exponentially when he returned to his room that evening, to see it had been _covered_ with a myriad of beautiful flowers. They were all in perfect bloom, and the enthralling sight of so many colours and shapes left Prompto momentarily breathless. It took him an embarrassingly long time to gather himself, and when he did, he finally noticed the note he had missed in his awe. The handwriting was scribbled onto the slip of paper with considerable care.

**Dear Prompto,**

**Please consider this ‘a sort of sorry’ for my behaviour last night. I want your time here to be enjoyable.**

**I thought these flowers a fitting way to express my apology. It only makes sense that a man as dazzling as you be surrounded by beauty, although even the most charming of flowers pales in comparison to the sunshine you radiate.**

**I look forward to sharing the evening with you.**

**Regards,**

**Noctis Lucis Caelum.**

If Prompto’s cheeks got any hotter, he’d _surely_ burst into flames. This romantic display was overwhelming, and _incredibly_ flattering, even if…

_Noctis wouldn’t have done this all on his own. He would have had some help._

For some reason, this knowledge didn’t perturb Prompto. He only found it amusing. He could vividly imagine the prince grumbling as his idea for flowers was turned into something of a larger scale, and could envision him grimacing as he was forced into writing something so soppy.

Prompto smiled, and leaned down to bury his face in a batch of wildflowers.

It was a nice gesture, nonetheless.

* * *

 

“He’ll probably laugh himself senseless.” Noctis grumbled against his forearms. He was laying his head on his arms, sulking after his apologetic gesture was turned into something needlessly extravagant. “I shouldn’t have asked for help.”

“Nonsense.” Ignis disputed crisply. He was dusting the man’s comic collection in preparation for that night, even though Noctis had cleaned it the day previous. “One flower is _hardly_ an apology, Noctis. A bunch is much more fitting.”

Noctis groaned. “It wasn’t a bunch, Ignis! Luna and Iris spread half of the garden in his bedroom, not to mention the note Gladio made me write…”

Ignis’s voice is rich with humour when he responds. “I thought it was sweet.”

Noctis moaned again. “No, it was _sickly.”_

“So you didn’t agree with what you wrote?”

“Of course I did! I just…didn’t want to write it down in words like that. Damn Gladio and his stupid romantic streak. You know he wanted me to add a heart at the end? A fucking **_heart.”_**

“I thought it was fitting.” The aforementioned man had been reading in the corner of the room, and spoke up with a shit-eating grin. “You two are like a pair of little kids. I could hardly recommend you write anything more…” He trailed off, and wriggled his eyebrows. “ _Risqué_.” He and Ignis chortled together, and Noctis resurfaced to glower at the pair.

“You two are _assholes._ ”

“Come now, Noct. Gladio is only helping in the most appropriate manner. Prompto will hardly respond positively to anything more forward. The lad seems a little flighty…”

“Who can blame him?” Gladiolus shrugged his broad shoulders. “With a father like Ardyn, he probably has no experience with romantic or sexual relationships.”

“Just a babe, really.” Ignis sighed, removing his glasses so he could rub the bridge of his nose. “Oh well. We can all help him grow. So long as we mind Ardyn. I saw him sulking around the vegetable patch this morning. He’s sinking into a fouler mood each day.”

“I never thought there’d be someone in this castle more moody than Noctis.”

“Shut up, Gladio. We all know Ravus is worse than me.”

“At least Ravus doesn’t pout like a little girl when he gets pissed off.”

“No. He just takes his anger out on everyone else. Aggressively.” Noctis reminded.

“True.” Gladiolus acknowledged. “You should talk to Lady Lunafreya about keeping him away from Prompto. Ravus has always been unpredictable…”

“Ravus is harmless. He wants to get out of this castle more than anyone.”

“Perhaps not when it involves Ardyn.”

“Fine. I’ll speak with Luna later. Now can you two leave? I want a nap if I’m having a sleepover tonight. I can’t _wait_ to finally watch a movie again…”

Gladiolus and Ignis exchanged smiles. It was nice to see Noctis so energetic again.

There was no denying that Prompto had livened the castle up. For the first time in a long time, the castle was thrumming with life, and it felt like they all had some kind of purpose. That they weren’t living a solely cursed existence…

Yes. Prompto was _definitely_ the one.

**He _had_ to be. **

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Prompto's relationship with Noctis to progress, I thought he needed to be a little more understanding. Don't worry though, he isn't giving up on Papa Ardyn :3
> 
> (Please) tell me what you thought. As always, THANK YOU for all of the reviews and kudos you have left. I look forward to working on this again ^_^
> 
> PS: I can't resist putting in domestic Gladio and Ignis. :)


	11. And now he's dear and so unsure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun in the snow turns a little heated, and Noctis and Prompto grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. This chapter is REALLY late. 
> 
> But on the bright side, it's pretty long so it MIGHT have been worth the wait? Eh, probably not. I haven't had much time for writing lately but hopefully the next chapter should come sooner than this one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

* * *

 

 

“You have to act like a gentleman, Noct. That’s always very important.”

Noctis sighed, as he listened to Gladiolus’s lecture. The man had been at it for some time now, taking a leaf out of Ignis’s book. He was under the impression that Noctis needed a lesson in romance. Which may have been accurate, however…

Gladiolus had high-standards, and he’d read too many romance novels.

“Compliment him, but don’t be too excessive, otherwise you’ll sound insincere. Be affectionate, but not smothering. Kiss his cheek chastely, guide him with a hand along his back, and give him brief embraces. _Don’t_ force him into anything more physical until he gives you consent. Consent is _very_ important. Now, your appearance is also important this early into the courtship. You need to make an effort, not just skulk around in your normal slovenly manner. Dress nicely, comb your hair, wear cologne _and_ aftershave.”

“Are you saying I smell bad?” Noctis asked indignantly. “I bathe twice a day!”

“Grown men pair cologne and aftershave. It’ll make you seem more…mature.” Gladiolus gave a pointed look to the printed T-Shirt that Noctis was wearing, which depicted a cartoon Regalia. “I’d say you should shave, but you haven’t developed much facial hair yet.”

“Shut up.” Noctis grumbled, stirring his porridge sulkily. “Are you hearing this, Ignis? Gladio wants to turn me into something I’m not!”

Ignis had been flipping through an archival document, and looked up to spare Noctis an encouraging smile. “We just want the wooing process to go smoothly, Noctis. The crystal grows dimmer each day. We can’t afford to be mucking about.”

“No pressure.” Noctis grumbled again, losing his appetite. He pushed the bowl away with a sigh, feeling nerves take over his body. He was supposed to be a _prince._ How could one quirky blond make him feel so insecure? Sure, Prompto was unique, and amazing, and very beautiful, but Noctis had been surrounded by that _before._ What made Prompto so different?

Don’t get him wrong, Noctis _loved_ that Prompto was different. If he wasn’t, Noctis would have no interest in pursuing him. He just wished he didn’t get those dreaded butterflies whenever he thought of the golden-haired male…

“Then we have the gifts. Gifts reinforce that you are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship. They will inform Prompto that cost is not an issue when it comes to your affections.”

Noctis raised an eyebrow dryly. “Well, _duh._ Do you hear yourself, Gladio? I’m a prince. _Of course_ cost isn’t an issue. He knows I could provide for him. The castle is probably a pretty good indication of that.”

Gladiolus scowled, losing some of his temper with Noctis’s mocking. “And I’m supposing you know better than me, virgin prince?”

Noctis scowled right back, cheeks flushing crimson. “I may not consider myself a romance expert, like you, but I know that all of this… _peacocking_ is not what Prompto would want. He’s a down-to-earth kind of guy.”

“The courting process has been proven to work-“

“Did you seriously buy Ignis’s affections? Like you’re trying to make me do with Prompto?”

Ignis choked on his sip of tea, and politely covered his mouth as he hacked to clear his airways.

Gladiolus thumped him on the back with a broad palm, causing the slimmer male to fly forwards into the edge of the table. “Sorry Iggy.” He apologised sheepishly, even as the chamberlain shot him a thin-lipped look of disapproval.

“Prompto _isn’t_ a gil-digger.” Noctis went on. “Was Ignis?”

“How _dare_ you have such a low opinion of the same man who has-“

Ignis raised a hand to halt Gladiolus, and the shield fell into a seething silence. The accented man took another sip of tea before speaking. “Point taken, Noctis. Gladio, I believe Noct is making a valid argument against excessive gift-giving. It isn’t a wise tactic. We need to appeal to Prompto as an individual. He is vastly different from the others, so amendments should be made.” The chamberlain stood from his seat, and strode behind the prince. “Furthermore, I believe that bestowing valuables upon Prompto, like jewellery, for instance, would be pointless. He seems the kind of lad to lose rings and necklaces whilst bathing.”

Noctis snorted, not unkindly. “That _does_ sound like him.” Prompto’s flippantness when it came to fine goods was one of the aspects that drew Noctis to him. He didn’t care for all of the pomp and pretentiousness. He was **_him_** , and mostly unapologetic about that.

“If you do give him something, it should be meaningful, for _both_ of you. Gifts on a superficial scale will only confuse and annoy the boy. We don’t want him searching out Ardyn to ask any questions about our motives for giving him presents, either.”

Gladiolus nodded reluctantly. “Fine. If you think it’s for the best, Iggy…”

Ignis’s sharp eyes softened behind his spectacles. “I do. Don’t worry, Gladio. I find your romantic ideals endearing, from a traditional standpoint. However…” His eyes flashed with momentary annoyance, before he soundly smacked Noctis on the back of the prince’s head with his pile of documents.

The prince hissed at the fleeting sting, flapping his hands at Ignis in deterrent, in case he went for another shot. “What the _fuck,_ Ignis? What did I do?”

“I was most certainly **_not_** a gil-digger, Noctis Lucis Caelum. Gladiolus appealed to me on an intellectual level, as well as a romantic one. I wasn’t seduced by possessions or promises of wealth. I’d thank you not to make such preposterous accusations in the future.”

Noctis winced. “You know I didn’t mean it, Ignis. I was just baiting him. To make a point about his hypocrisy.”

_“My hypocrisy?”_

Ignis raised the papers again threateningly, this time in Gladio’s direction.

The tanned male raised his hands in defeat, and Ignis lowered them with a huff.

“It isn’t like you to treat documents so carelessly.” Noctis pointed out curiously. “Usually you freak out whenever someone so much as _breathes_ in their general direction.”

Ignis smiled somewhat grimly. “These documents are well-worn, I’m afraid. Coffee marks and dog-eared pages. The former chamberlain was less…meticulous than I was.”

Noctis felt his interest piqued. “What’s in the documents?”

Ignis and Gladiolus exchanged looks, and Noctis cocked his head to the side.

“Ignis? What are you searching the archives for?” It was unlike the man to not answer. Usually he reported on his intentions immediately. It was his job, after all. “Why the sudden secrecy?” Noctis went on jokingly, when the pair refused to answer. “Have you found some adoption papers, or something?”

Ignis cleared his throat, and tucked the papers away into a stained folder. “Nothing of the sort, I assure you. You don’t need to fret, Prince Noctis. I am merely doing some record keeping. Menial work.”

Noctis was becoming suspicious, but before he had the opportunity to probe further, the door to his chambers was thrown open, and Iris came practically _skipping_ inside.

“Iris.” Gladiolus sighed, in an exasperated manner. “Knock first, remember? Noctis may be a prince, but he’s still a man. You don’t want to interrupt anything he may…”

“You mean jerking off?” Iris chirped, causing her brother to clutch his heart in shock. He was still unaccustomed to hearing his baby sister talk in such a crass manner. “Don’t worry, Gladdy. I’m usually more careful. I knew you and Ignis were in here. Crowe told me she brought you breakfast. I’m here to collect the dishes.” That said, Iris hastened to complete her task, but was unable to resist questioning Noctis once she had collected everything onto a tray. “So, no sleepover last night? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

Noctis shook his head. “No. He…fell asleep in the library yesterday evening. He seemed so exhausted, I didn’t want to wake him up. I had Nyx carry him to his bedroom.”

“Aw. Poor guy. Reading through those books is enough to make _anyone_ tired. Unless you’re a bookworm like my brother and Ignis…” She quipped teasingly. “I saw him at breakfast, not long ago. He seems guilty. You should track him down today, Noct. Make sure he knows you aren’t holding any grudges.”

“I will.” Noctis affirmed. “Thanks, Iris.”

“No problem.” Iris chirped again. She seemed cheerful, as most of the staff had been upon hearing of Prompto’s return. They seemed optimistic about the future.

Noctis could only hope he could deliver freedom to them. What kind of king was he, if he couldn’t do something so simple for his subjects? He didn’t want to disappoint his father, any more than he likely had. What would the man say, if he were alive?

“I noticed it’s snowing outside today.” Iris paused at the door. “Prompto seemed rather taken with it. Apparently he hasn’t seen the snow in a while. Maybe you two should take a walk. I bet he’d enjoy it. Just a suggestion.” Then, the female departed the room, closing the door softly.

Noctis jumped from his chair with more energy than he usually expelled, and went to one of the large windows in his chambers. The thick, dark curtains were always drawn, and hadn’t been opened in _years_ , even when the room was being cleaned. He tugged them aside impatiently, and squinted at the blinding whiteness that flooded the dimly-lit room.

Everything outside was dusted with freshly fallen snow. A winter wonderland. It gave Noctis a nostalgic feeling, and he remembered strolling through the snow as a child with his father, the man indulging him with the odd snowball fight here and there. As he grew older, the fights would erupt into full-scale war with Gladiolus, and he would miss the occasions on which he and Luna would build snowmen together…

Upon his imprisonment in the castle, not even the beatific sight of freshly fallen snow had been enough to lighten his spirits. Luna had tried taking him on walks to observe the peaceful scenery many times, but he’d never been able to enjoy it, bitterness twisting inside of him. What was the point, he had thought, of such beautiful snow, when his life was so wretched? It was like the elements were mocking him. Like a certain _Goddess_ was mocking him.

Luna eventually ceased her attempts, although Noctis often saw her dressed in her winter dresses, an elegant cap fixed over her silvery blonde hair. She always looked graceful, like she belonged somewhere more ethereal than the grounds of the palace.

He promised himself he’d get her freedom. He’d get _all_ of them their freedom back.

“I think I’ll invite him outside with me.” Noctis decided after a moment. Perhaps seeing Prompto’s wonder would reignite his fondness for the snow. “He has warm clothing in his closet, right?”

“His wardrobe is equipped with clothing suitable for any form of weather, Highness. Should I write him an invitation?”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “It’ll be fine, Ignis. I don’t have to be that formal with him.” Even as he says it, he second guesses himself. Perhaps he _should_ have Ignis extend an invitation. He didn’t relish the thought of being rejected face to face…

“Have more confidence in yourself.” Gladiolus had noticed the unsure flicker in his eyes. “Nothing is more unattractive than a prince too cowardly to make the first move. Show Goldilocks how _assertive_ you can be. I’m sure he’d love it.”

“Or he may think I’m a cocky asshole.”

“There’s a fine line between confidence and _over_ confidence. It’s a delicate balance. _That’s_ what you should be teaching him, Gladio. We are on limited time already. We can’t afford for any major missteps or faux pas’s.”

 “No pressure.” Noctis repeated again, miserably. “Can you guys just shut up? The more you talk about time constraints the more nervous I get.”

Ignis sighed. “You’re right. I apologise, Noct. Please feel free to ignore our prattling. You know how I can get with planning. It isn’t like me to be unprepared for any eventuality.”

Noctis knew it was the man’s job to be fretful, so he sighed in defeat. “Can you just…try to limit your preparing around me? Just tell me what I need to know. Please?”

“That is hardly an ideal style of leadership-“

“It isn’t leadership, Gladio.” Ignis interrupted, not unkindly. “It’s love. I think he deserves a chance to do this naturally.”

“That’s why I’ve been trying to help him.”

“Sometimes these things can’t be taught. Evidenced by his numerous failed attempts in the past. You know he’s always tried his hardest to follow our counsel, Gladio.”

“Except when he’s being obstinate and sulky.”

“Except then.” Ignis amended.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be on my side!” Noctis objected, only half-serious.

“I am. That is why I cannot lie to you, Noct. I would hardly be a proper chamberlain if I pandered to your mood.”

“Whatever. Can you guys step out? I need to change.”

“ _That_ Gladio can help you with. Prompto will hardly be taken by your shabby wardrobe.”

“Must you insist on dressing me up like some kind of doll?”

 

* * *

 

Prompto felt both embarrassed and guilty that he had fallen asleep in the library yesterday. He’d been energetic at the prospect of his first ever sleepover, but reading through the mounds of books he’d located had only served to exhaust him. The small, delicate script had made his eyelids droopy, and he’d been snoring sooner than he cared to admit. He hoped Ignis never realised how much he’d drooled over that history tome…

Either way, he felt too mortified to face the prince after falling asleep like a child. Or a senior citizen. Or someone _totally_ uncool, like, well, _himself_. What made it worse was that everyone seemed to know about it, Aranea had even given him a mocking snore when he’d passed her in the hall…

Seeing the beautiful snow outside served to perk up his spirits, though. It had been a long time since he’d seen such a pure dusting of ice. The last time he’d seen snow, it had been sparse and muddied. Not enchanting at all.

He was almost tempted to run outside in his light clothing and collapse into a pile, but remembering the scolding he’d likely receive from his father made him rethink his actions. The last thing he wanted was a public lecture from his father. He’d already embarrassed himself enough, he didn’t want Ardyn adding to it. The man would probably relish humiliating him in front of the others…

“I haven’t seen such a lovely flurry in a while.” Iris chirped, as she took away his empty plate. Prompto had devoured a monstrous sized birdbeast egg omelette, and then managed to fit in a small stack of waffles and a breakfast juice. “Usually it’s a snowstorm. This is such a peaceful downpour…”  

“It’s beautiful.” Prompto expressed, mopping his face with a napkin. Ravus, who had reluctantly joined him at the table some time ago, shot him a disgusted look for his poor table manners. “I’d love to go outside and have a snowball fight…”

“Such a child.” Ravus grumbled unhappily.

Prompto directed him a sunny smile. “You’re welcome to join me, Ravus. Perhaps a little levity will lighten your bitter disposition.” Prompto wasn’t usually so snarky, but the silver-haired male had been angling him snide comments all throughout breakfast. He was the complete _opposite_ of his sweet little sister Lunafreya. “I bet that arm of yours can throw a long distance. It wouldn’t even get strained!”

Immediately, Prompto knows he’s touched a nerve with his joking. The man immediately stiffens, and slams his hands so hard on the table that the steady fixture shakes. If it were any more brittle, Prompto knew it would buckle and collapse completely. Ravus is _strong._ “Um…” He laughed nervously under the pressure of Ravus’s murderous glare. “Ravus, y’know I was just kidding around…”

“So it’s _funny_ that I’m missing a human arm?” He demanded furiously.

Prompto couldn’t help but shrink. “N-no? I mean, **_no.”_** He added, more adamantly. “I was just-“

“Just _what?_ Mocking my house and our lineage? Besmirching it with your foolish teasing!?”

Prompto blinked. “Dude. _Calm down._ That wasn’t my intention.”

Ravus opened his mouth, likely to continue raving, but Iris shot him a deadly look, and whacked him over the head with an empty frying pan.

“Settle down, Ravus. There’s no need to be so sensitive. Prompto doesn’t know the gory details about your lack of an arm, and he doesn’t deserve you shouting at him.” It’s the first time Prompto has seen Iris behave so serious, and she looks almost… _demonic_ in her displeasure. He’s sure Gladiolus would be proud. “Why don’t you do something useful instead of glowering at him? It’s not fair that I have to do _all_ of the work around here.”

Prompto desperately wanted to reconcile with Ravus. If he was going to be in the palace for an undetermined period of time, he didn’t want to have any enemies. _Especially_ scary ones like Ravus. But how could he make amends when he didn’t know what Ardyn had done? _Clearly_ his distaste for Prompto stemmed from Ardyn. It was the only reasonable explanation for his open hostility…

_Maybe I can channel that hostility into something productive._

Prompto forced himself to smile, instead of grimace. “It’s obvious you don’t want me and Papa here, Ravus.” Iris blanched at his blunt statement, her grip on the pan turning lax. “I’m sorry about that, but I can’t leave here until I find a way to break the curse. I won’t leave without him. That, and I want to find a way to help you guys as well.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for an adverse reaction. “If you _really_ want me and Papa gone, you can help me scour the library for a way to break the curse. That will be more beneficial than snarling at me like an angry animal. We can work together. What do you say? Truce?” Awkwardly, he extended a hand, expectant.

He shrank into his seat when Ravus gave a harsh, derisive laugh. “You stupid boy, do you _seriously_ believe-“

“Hey, Robo-Arm,” Aranea interrupted, entering the kitchen with her arms crossed. She’d obviously heard Ravus’s loud voice. “Are you giving one of our _guests_ a hard time? You know how counter-productive that is, right? Luna won’t be happy.”

_“Lady Lunafreya._ Have some respect, peasant!”

“Did you just call me a _peasant_ , Robo-Arm? I’d shut my mouth if I were you, unless you want to take this to the sparring ground and settle things like men.”

“If you want a fight, I have no qualms about giving you one-“

“Oh, come on guys!” Iris exclaimed. “Enough bickering! Don’t make me call Mama Ignis down here!”

“I do not fear Noctis’s over-qualified nanny-“

“You will if you call him that around my brother!”

Great. Now _Iris_ was arguing as well.

Prompto sighed. He wondered if the household was always this tense, or if it was just a result of his and Ardyn’s presence. Either way, he was seriously considering excusing himself from the palace and fleeing elsewhere in Insomnia. Although he had no means to defeat any daemons that would come after him…

_I wish Papa were here. He’d know what to say._

Ardyn may have been an oily individual, but he had an air of authority about him. People _always_ listened to what he said, even if they didn’t agree with him. It was almost…kingly.

_What would Papa do?_

Prompto knew. He took a deep, steadying breath. “One would think that a palace would have staff that knew how to co-operate. Have you spent so long alone that you’ve forgotten how to interact like normal people? Please, stop your pointless bickering.”

Ardyn wouldn’t have added a ‘please’ but Prompto thought it appropriate to be polite. He didn’t angle them a self-assured smirk, either. That would just be obnoxious. “What would the citizens of Lucis have to say about all of this nonsense?”

“Don’t presume to act like you know. You aren’t a Lucian.” Ravus reminded in a snap. “Born and bred in Niflheim, you would be clueless as to their wishes.”

Prompto narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t heard such bigotry in a while, and it was steadily ruining his good mood. “I may have been born in Niflheim but I was raised drifting from place to place. I’m not so out of touch that I’d be _clueless._ You, on the other hand, have been rotting in this castle for God’s knows how long. If anyone is out-of-touch, it would be you. Don’t belittle me when you have no idea what kind of person I am, _Lord Ravus_.”

There was a heavy silence, in which Ravus peered at him in shock, before Aranea gave an impressed whistle, her typical smirk widening. “ _Wow,_ Goldilocks. Who would have known such a pretty little thing was capable of being so acerbic? You surprise me every day.”

Iris looked more serious, although she did murmur a soft “Ha, _burn_.”

“You,” Ravus hissed after a moment, when he had gathered his bearings. He shoved an accusatory finger in Prompto’s direction. “Are _just_ like your father.” He turned to Aranea and Iris with a sneer. “I’ve warned you. This boy will bring nothing but trouble here!”

“Hopefully.” Aranea shrugged. “Shit’s been getting real dull around here ever since the last visitor fled in the dead of night, screaming bloody murder.” When Prompto appeared confused, she elaborated. “Poor girl saw Libertus in nothing but a towel. It’s a sight that’ll turn anyone’s stomach.”

“That _isn’t_ what happened.” Iris said, sending her a chiding look. “A certain _someone_ thought it was a fun idea to put red frogs under her mattress.” The accusing look she sent Aranea indicated who that certain ‘someone’ was. “I _knew_ it was suspicious that you were reading Professor Sania’s study on amphibians…”

“Sania?” Prompto repeated, a little miffed. “Is she that really enthusiastic scientist who tries to rope you into gathering samples for her?”

“Yeah. She often received grants from the _Insomnian Board of Scientific Research_ , when it was still an organisation. Her studies on the lengthening nights and sleeping habits of daemons were _fascinating._ I really admired her work ethic…” Iris trailed off, a little sadly. “I…haven’t seen her since the night before we were trapped here. She didn’t want to stay for the celebrations. She had research…”

Prompto grinned at her in his most reassuring manner. “Don’t worry. Professor Sania is still as tenacious as ever. She travels nearly as much as Papa and I, so we cross paths sometimes. Papa is always interested in her recent discoveries, not that he’d let anyone know…”

Nope. Ardyn had to keep that allure of mystery about him. The man wouldn’t like admitting that there was something in this world that he wasn’t _completely_ knowledgeable about. He wore his intelligence and considerable life experience (sometimes Prompto wondered if his papa had some kind of weird aging serum and he was actually _really_ ancient) proudly, and he never hesitated to flaunt it like a strutting peacock. Prompto found it embarrassing to witness, although he _did_ have to admit that Ardyn deserved a little showboating now and then. It wasn’t like his artwork was truly appreciated and praised, despite his talent.

The world scorned him, because of his past involvement with Niflheim.

And they scorned Prompto, too. A broken MT. One of the only remaining living reminders of the time that Niflheim had seemingly destroyed Lucis and its citizens, murdered the royal family, and terminated the oracle line forever.

Yet here a majority of them were, safe and sound. Cursed by a goddess to remain stuck in the palace until their prince finally fell in love.

Or Prompto figured out an alternate method of breaking the curse.

Which reminded him of his purpose.

“I think I’ll go to the library.” He decided, before Iris could continue their conversation. She looked eager to hear more about Professor Sania, but he had a job to do. He could tell her more details later, when he’d reached his researching threshold. If only he had Sania here, her brilliant mind could probably come up with a few theories about the curse. Although she _was_ more experienced with science, and the curse was strictly magic…

Prompto was electing to ignore that an oracle and a practiced chamberlain had already failed. He couldn’t allow himself to become disheartened so easily. He _wouldn’t_ give up. He may not have been as smart as the others, but his sheer determination was something to behold.

“Oh, sure.” Iris tried to mask her disappointment, to a moderately successful degree. “You’re certainly focused, Prompto. Would you like me to bring you lunch in the library? Ignis frowns upon eating in there, but I think he’ll make an exception if you’re careful.”

“Thank you. That would be very helpful.” What a sweet, thoughtful girl this Iris was. Prompto wondered why Noctis hadn’t chosen her, either. The man had no shortage of amazing women at his beck and call, yet he hadn’t fallen in love with any of them. “Breakfast was wonderful, as usual. Thank the others for me?”

“Will do! Oh, just you wait until Iggy treats you to a _real_ banquet. Nothing compares to his cooking. I wonder why my brother hasn’t married him just for that…”

Aranea, who had started picking at the centrepiece of fruit, snorted. “Because Ignis isn’t a housewife, and they’re much too occupied with the prince to fully appreciate one another…” She waggled her eyebrows here. “I mean, they share chambers, but they’re never really there at the same time, are they?”

“I wouldn’t have noticed. I don’t stalk my brother.”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” Ravus growled, standing abruptly. “If Luna asks for me, tell her I’ll be at the outskirts, observing the daemons.” Without waiting for a reply, he stalked off. 

“He’s got a flair for the dramatic, that one.” Aranea noted.

“Such a cheerful plan for his day.” Iris quipped dryly.

Prompto felt a surge of pity. It couldn’t be easy, being in Ravus’s position.

“Well, I’ll be off to patrol.” Aranea said, sinking her teeth into a ruby red fruit. It wasn’t an apple. It must have been some fruit native to Lucis…

If Prompto had time, he’d pick up a botany book. As it was…

He’d wasted too much time listening to gossip and insults. He wouldn’t expend any more. Nuh-uh. **_No way!_**

However…

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Prompto, I’m glad I caught you.” Noctis meets him as he climbs the first staircase leading to the library. He’s dressed for a day outside, his winter gear pitch black and boots well-shined. The golden clasps of his coat gleam under candlelight, and Prompto can’t help but think how _darn **handsome** he looks. _Noctis was always handsome, but he looked even more striking when dressed well…

“Hey.” Prompto’s acutely aware of the well-worn clothes he’d pulled from his duffle, and is squirming under the memory of ditching their sleepover the night previous. “I’m sorry about last night,” He blurted, unable to let the matter rest. No pun intended. “All that reading wore me out. I fell asleep like an old dude…”

“Don’t sweat it.” Noctis shrugged, a casual disregard. It’s evident he harbours no grudge. “I fall asleep all the time. It happens.”

Prompto grins at the honesty, and states the obvious. “You’re dressed in your winter clothes.”

“It’s snowing outside.”

“I noticed.”

There’s a pause. Noctis works his jaw, like he’s preparing to say something.

Prompto waits, patiently.

“Do you…want to come outside with me for a bit? It’s been cold in Insomnia ever since I was cursed, but it doesn’t snow that often, _especially_ like this. It would be a shame to not enjoy it.”

_No, Prompto._

Prompto scolds himself, as he immediately envisions exploring the palace’s gardens, snapping pictures with his camera and making snow angels. Maybe even having a snow fight with Noctis…

_It sounds fun. But you **need** to prioritise… _ 

“I’d really like if you came with me.”

And Noctis’s blue eyes are so _vibrant_ and _sincere_ , he’s shifting from foot-to-foot shyly, and Prompto realises (bless his dumb princely heart) that the other male had been _nervous_ to ask him. Denying him now would be like kicking a chocobo chick…

And he doesn’t want to.

_Really_ doesn’t want to.

He’d never played in the snow with anyone but Ardyn, and the man had never really appreciated it. It was like he’d seen snow so many times that it had lost its appeal. He indulged Prompto, but he didn’t _enjoy_ it.

So despite his resolution…

“Sure, dude! It sounds awesome! Just let me change and grab my camera!”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen in half an hour?”

“Fine by me!”

“See ya then.”

Prompto _tries_ not to find the spring in Noctis’s typical lazy gait endearing.

Tries, and **_fails._**

 

* * *

 

Prompto is running late, _again._

He hadn’t packed any real winter gear before coming to the palace, so he had to search through the monstrously large wardrobe, and all of the options had completely baffled him.

It was easy when he only had a couple of choices, but when there were more than a _dozen?_

He found himself contemplating which would look best on him. The prince looked so dashing today, and he wanted to return the favour and dress up a bit as well. The last time he’d tried dressing to impress someone it had been Cindy, and he’d enlisted _Ardyn’s_ help.

Needless to say, he’d looked like a particularly flamboyant hobo. Cindy had tried not to laugh and embarrass him, but Cid had been blunt and told him he looked like ‘ _An honest to Gods darn fool’._ He hadn’t tried anything like that again.

In the end, he sticks his head out of his chambers and waits anxiously for someone to walk by, and desperately asks Nyx Ulric to help him. The long-haired male seems both reluctant and bemused, but doesn’t scoff and turn him down.

Surprisingly, the man has a relatively good grasp of fashion, and easily selects a grey and white ensemble paired with a fluffy white jacket and a sky blue hat and pair of gloves. Apparently the colour ‘compliments his eyes’.

When Prompto asks where he gets his sense of style from, Nyx goes quiet and murmurs something about a sister. Prompto doesn’t bring it up again.

So yes, he is late by about ten minutes, but without Nyx’s help, he would have been late by a much wider margin. He makes sure to thank the man liberally, but Nyx only waves him away with a small smile. When he sees Noctis, fretfully pacing in the kitchen, he feels satisfaction at the man’s gooey gaze. Yes, Nyx had chosen well. Prompto usually wasn’t one for vanity (outside of keeping his hair perfectly gelled), but a quick glance in the wardrobe’s mirror had shown him how _good_ he looked today. _Nearly_ as good as Noctis.

“Beautiful.” Noctis breathed, when Prompto came to his side with a shy smile.

Prompto, red-faced, made a show of huffing and sticking up his nose. “Am I just a piece of meat to you _?”_ Noctis makes a spluttering sound, like he’s inhaled a mouthful of water, and Prompto lets him fumble for a moment, before cracking a grin and laughing. “Just messing with you, man!” His grin turns into a smirk, and he elbows the other male playfully. “You don’t look half-bad yourself, prince.”

“Don’t call me prince.” Noctis requested. “ _Please._ I’m not your prince.”

Prompto is a little taken-aback at the beseeching, but nods his head in compliance. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Slowly, giving Prompto enough time to move away if he wants, Noctis grabs his hand. Prompto can feel the warmth of Noctis’s palm through the prince’s black leather gloves. “Ready to go?”

The grip is delicate, and Prompto squeezes Noctis’s hand reassuringly. He is _okay_ with this, and Noctis’s care for consensual contact pleases him. “Yep! Let’s have some fun!”

 

* * *

 

The palace has many courtyards, but the one Noctis takes him to is partially grassed, and large enough to accommodate trees and plants, which grow neatly and well-tended-to. There’s a small, prized garden as well, blooming with stunning native Lucian flowers.

It’s all very picturesque, and Prompto snaps shots with his camera frequently. Noctis doesn’t seem to mind his distraction, content to observe Prompto like he’s something wonderfully unique, and not a geeky technophile with a strange compulsion to record everything.  

Eventually though, when Prompto has photographed everything he wanted (he spent a particularly long time taking pictures of the bizarre but beautiful black roses which apparently grew native to Insomnia) he tucked his camera into its storage bag, setting it on a sleet covered bench.

Immediately, he was fair game.

It took less than a minute for a snowball to be lobbed at his head.

Prompto heard the tell-tale whoosh, and barely avoided having the soft ice impact with the back of his head. He jumped to the side in a fluid movement, spinning on his heel with a smirk. Noctis stood with his arm extended, seeming surprised at Prompto’s fast dodge. “Nice try.” Prompto laughed, poking his tongue out. “I’m quicker than I seem.”

“Evidently.” Noctis said, even as he gave a playful growl. “You better watch out, Prompto. I won’t give up this fight until you’re _covered_ with snow.”

“Bring it, Noct!” Prompto goaded, leaping to the side as Noctis knelt to collect more snow. He took refuge behind a large tree. The trunk was thick and wide, big enough to hide his form and then some. His gloved hands were a little clumsy as he started creating a small pile of snowballs, inexperienced in compacting them into projectiles. Still, he managed a decent amount, and just in time, as well. He heard Noctis’s boots crunching on a root, as the prince edged his way around the tree stealthily. It was likely the only tell Prompto would receive before the prince ambushed him in a flurry of snow.

Deciding to outsmart the other male, Prompto inched around the other side of the tree, ghosting the prince’s movements for a backwards assault.

But…

What Prompto caught sight of wasn’t the back of Noctis, but the small form of a dark coloured dog. The canine was snuffling in the snow, and glanced up upon sensing Prompto. It regarded him with intelligent eyes, cocking its head in interest.

Prompto cooed, dropping the snowball he had prepared to instead kneel down and begin patting the animal’s soft fur. He loved dogs almost as much as chocobos…

The dog gave a content bark at the contact, wagging its tail in approval. It tried to lick Prompto’s face, but the blond shuffled back slightly. Ardyn had lectured him about the germs a dog’s mouth carried ever since he’d started petting them as a child…

His momentary distraction with the newly-appeared canine was his undoing. He’d left himself partially exposed, and Noctis took advantage of this to haul a snowball roughly the size of a newborn garula at the back of his neck. The _exposed_ part.

The icy impact made Prompto yelp, and he spun around with a half-perturbed look. “Dude! Not cool! I was petting a dog!”

This time, it was Noctis smirking, and he shrugged unconcernedly. “You should have called a truce then, _Chocobo butt-head._ ” 

“Never!” Prompto cried dramatically. “And my hair does _not_ look like a chocobo butt!”

“Your words, not mine!” Noctis called back, hurling another snowball.

It whacked Prompto square in the chest, and he tilted back, momentarily off-balance from the force. Noctis may have appeared lean, but he was _strong._ He must have been hiding muscles _somewhere…_

Prompto ran over to a frozen fountain, taking cover as he zigzagged around Noctis’s snowball assault. He should have been _carrying_ his supply of snowballs…

Oh well. He wouldn’t make the same mistake next time, and he had a special form of revenge in store for the prince…

And it happened to involve some of the pebbles in the courtyard.

“OUCH!” Noctis cried a minute or so later, when Prompto managed to hit him in the forehead with a deceptively small snowball. The prince hadn’t bothered trying to move, chortling at how tiny the projectile was. He wasn’t laughing now, when he sifted through the fallen snow to find a small rock in the centre. “You asshole! No rocks!”

“Aw, the crown prince can’t handle a little pebble?”

“You threw that ‘little pebble’ with enough speed to bruise!”

“Oh.” Prompto hadn’t thought about that. He thought the small rock would only sting for a moment. “Was it that fast?”

“Uh, _yeah_. You’re really quick, Prompto!”

“I have to be.” Prompto stuck his head around the decadent fountain, to better see the prince’s face while they chatted. “I’m a wildlife photographer. The amount of times I’ve had to outrun some kind of creature…” He trailed off with a shudder, remembering a particularly frightening time a herd of anaks had galloped after him. _That_ was scary. “It’s part of the job. I get paid pretty generously for it, as well. The harder the shot, the bigger the profit.”

“I bet the adrenaline rush is pretty good, as well.”

Prompto raised his eyebrows. No one had voiced such a thought to him before, but it _was_ correct. Despite the fear that came with such life-threatening situations, Prompto enjoyed the way it made him feel _alive_. “It’s the closest thing I get to an adventure.” He admitted, wondering when a snowball fight turned into a personal conversation.

“Sounds like you’d enjoy a _proper_ adventure. Ever thought of going on one?”

“I suppose travelling with Papa can be considered an adventure.” Prompto was feeling a little melancholic. Despite his words, travelling with Ardyn never seemed _truly_ exciting, because the man did not share his feelings of awe when discovering new things, because _nothing_ seemed to be new for Ardyn.

“Have you ever travelled anywhere with friends?”

“No.” Prompto replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Noctis sensed it, regardless. “Hey, when this curse is broken, we should go on a trip somewhere!” The prince had sat down on the edge of the fountain, tossing a snowball up and down as it slowly came apart in flurries. “My dad gave me this awesome car before he…” He trailed off, and when the snowball fell to his palm, he crushed it harshly. “I think it would be fun to road-trip in. Me, Iggy and Gladio had always planned to travel around for a bit, get experience outside of Insomnia and all…”

It sounded fantastical to Prompto. Travelling around in a cool Insomnian vehicle, hanging out with friends…

Improbable. No, impossible. Even if he could, even if Iggy and Gladio agreed to let him tag along, Ardyn would _never…_

“I wouldn’t want to pressure you though.” The prince seemed dejected at his lack of enthusiastic response. “It probably couldn’t happen, anyway. When the curse is broken, I’ll have to re-establish my position as royalty, re-build Insomnia, welcome politicians for talks…”

The snowball fight had taken a droll turn.

Prompto wasn’t content with that. He didn’t spend so long agonising over his outfit for it to be wasted.

_No more hiding around barriers. It’s time for **war.**_

Steeling himself for the hell that was about to be unleashed by his actions, Prompto pushed himself atop the sizeable fountain, stepping onto the ice and clutching at the statue. It was depicting the Glacian, and her cold, stone eyes made Prompto shiver. Noctis hadn’t heard them, clearly expecting Prompto to reply.

_Perfect._

Knowing trying to walk across would only make him fall, Prompto pushed off of the statue, sliding across the ice with his arms extended for balance. His boots made a skidding sound, but by the time Noctis looked up, it was too late.

Prompto lunged over the edge of the fountain, crashing into the prince and dragging him down into the snow. It was thick and soft upon impact, and the pair sunk in a rather comical fashion. The prince’s mouth had opened in shock, and filled with some of the substance. He hacked, even as Prompto straddled him and began scooping up snow in big heaps, dumping it over his body and sprinkling small amounts onto his face. The blond didn’t want to suffocate the prince, merely bury him, thus winning their snowball fight. It was an underhanded tactic, but speed was the only advantage Prompto had.

“Prom-“ Noctis tried to bat him away, but his hands were being weighed down by the snow. He could get loose if he struggled hard enough, but he was actually _enjoying_ Prompto’s initiative. The concentrated, competitive expression on his face was _cute,_ and the fact that he’d managed to outsmart Noctis would have made Ignis proud…

So he let himself be buried under all of the snow. His clothing was high-quality, and the snow had yet to seep through, even as it melted under his temperature. The cold would not seep into his bones unless he was covered for an extended period. Unlike Prompto, he’d taken the precaution (or, more accurately, Ignis had forced him) of wearing a scarf. The only exposed part of his body was his face, and Prompto wouldn’t smother him into suffocating. Probably. Not unless he insulted Ardyn again _, probably._

“Give in, and I’ll let you go before I bury you alive!” Prompto ordered gleefully. “Say _‘Prompto you are the best and your hair is totally awesome and not at all like a chocobo-butt’_ , and I will let you up, and escape with your life!”

“That is awfully specific.” Noctis managed to get out, around a mouthful of rapidly melting ice. “Whatever happened to something simple, like ‘Uncle’?”

“Nope! This is better! Proclaim my awesomeness and you shall live!”

It was all so _silly._ Even when having snowball fights as a child, nothing had ever ventured into such a _ridiculous_ territory.

It was _hilarious._

Noctis wheezed out his laughter, chest shaking with humour. Prompto had yet to stop covering him with snow, but he could feel the other male’s laughter reverberate against him. He hadn’t laughed this much in _ages._ Even when Iris dyed Gladiolus’s hair pink as a prank, or when Ignis accidentally cooked a dessert with laxative chocolate and everyone got sick…

That incident was only funny in hindsight, of course.

But Noctis wasn’t about to _let_ Prompto win. That would be insulting, to both of them. Unfortunately, the blond had been playing a doomed game from the beginning.

Prompto could almost _taste_ victory, but before he could hear Noctis sing his praises in defeat, the prince did something unexpected.

Flames licked from underneath the snow, melting the ice and freeing the other male. With an enviable ease, Noctis flipped their positions, until he was holding Prompto down with a smug smirk. Then, ice exploded from his palms, covering Prompto in a solid cover that kept him immobilised completely.

Prompto was so shocked, that he didn’t even let out a breath of surprise.

For three, short moments, then…

“You CHEATED!” He accused indignantly, wishing he could jab a finger at the darkhaired male. “Using elemancy is an unfair advantage!”

Noctis appeared flippant. “We never made any rules, Prompto. Besides, since when did a snowball fight extend into physically assaulting someone and trying to bury them alive?”

“That’s different! I just used my body!”

“Oh, I see.” Noctis made a show of appearing teasingly contemplative. “Well, if you insist.” A dagger seemingly phased into existence in a blue shimmer, and Noctis cut Prompto free of the ice, before pinning him down with his whole weight. The prince loomed over him with a smirk, his eyes swimming with amusement, and something else Prompto wasn’t experienced enough to identify. Something _did_ seem to be poking him in the leg though. Maybe it was another dagger? “Does that mean I can use mine to my own advantage?”

Prompto had to admit, being pinned wasn’t _that_ bad, even if he was feeling a little cold. Noctis’s steady weight was almost…pleasant, and that cold feeling was melting away into something a little more heated the closer Noctis’s face got to his…

Until their lips met.

It was a soft, gentle presence. Noctis’s lips were a little chapped from the cold weather, but…

_Holy shit they’re cold! It’s like kissing a frozen corpse!_

The biting temperature made Prompto shiver, but he didn’t pull away. For all the iciness, it was a nice pressure, and Prompto wasn’t about to ruin his _first kiss_ by being prissy about a little cold. Besides, the longer Noctis kissed him, the more warm his lips became.

Until Prompto couldn’t help but moan, arching upwards to deepen the kiss. The sensation was delightful, but he wanted something _more._ He wanted to act on the heat beginning to pool in his belly…

Noctis reciprocated eagerly, and a hot tongue probed at Prompto’s lips. The blond opened them immediately, granting access to the prince. Noctis let out a pleased grunt, tongue exploring every inch of Prompto’s mouth.

When Prompto was a young boy, and had seen a couple kissing, he had asked Ardyn why adults did something that looked ‘so gross’. The man, of course, had responded by listing an array of bacteria that lived in the mouth, and how kissing people was practically ‘inviting disease and sickness’ and that Prompto should never, ever, **_ever_** let anyone kiss him. If he did, he’d be in _big_ trouble.

Ardyn was just being overprotective, of course.

And Prompto was extremely glad the man wasn’t around to witness this.

_Kissing,_ he thought, even as Noctis and he exchanged saliva. _Is **awesome.**_

It wasn’t experienced by any means, nor was it likely nice to look at, like the couples in the movies, but it felt good to _them,_ and Prompto was sure, with a little more practice-

Noctis suddenly drew away, and Prompto realised how deprived of oxygen he was. He panted from the unexpected kiss, wiping at the string of saliva that still connected their lips. “Wow.” He whispered in awe, tracing a finger over his tingling lips. “I should do that more often.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, and wrapped his arms around Noctis’s neck, trying to draw him back now that he had caught his breath. “C’mon, kiss me again, Noct.” He tugged impatiently, and let out a whine when the prince gently shrugged him off.

A horrible thought occurred.

_Was I **bad?** Are my kissing skills **disappointing?** I know I’m new to this, but Noctis was no pro, either. We were pretty sloppy…_

With a pout, Prompto followed Noctis’s line of vision, and flushed brightly when he saw the cause of Noctis’s sudden distraction. It was Ignis and Gladiolus, which wasn’t too bad, really, they were hoping he and Noctis would get along, after all, but _Ardyn_ was with them, and he looked ready to murder the poor prince…

_Did he see me initiate the kiss?_

Prompto thought, overcome with panic.

_If not, he’ll think Noctis **forced** himself on me. _  

Now, Prompto wasn’t in the habit of running away from his problems (okay _sometimes_ , but that was kind of inevitable) but the prospect of facing Ardyn now seemed akin to suicide for him. He could already feel his red cheeks leeching of colour, as he imagined the scolding he was about to receive…

_Nope. I am **noping** out of this. _

“Noct,” Prompto hissed, as the two of them carefully rose to their feet. “Don’t let Ardyn near me. He’s gonna lock me away in a tower with a chastity device for the rest of my life.”

“I’d say you’re being melodramatic, but I think I know otherwise by now…” Noctis whispered back. “Do you want to run?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s run. Take me someplace he won’t get to me.”

“You up for a sleepover tonight?”

_There’s no point going to the library now. Ardyn will find me easily there._

Prompto knew he couldn’t avoid his father forever, but he needed some time to process what had just occurred, away from his overwhelming influence. “I’m up for anything, at this point.” He doesn’t have the time to think about the suggestiveness of his words, as Ardyn suddenly takes a step forward, advancing on them in a slow deliberate movement, like the world’s most horrifying predator. “On the count of three?”

Noctis shakes his head, a tense smirk crossing his lips. “Hold on.”

“What do you mean – WOAH!” Prompto shouted, as Noctis suddenly tossed him over his shoulder, supporting his frame with one hand. “Dude! What the hell!?” Noctis wasn’t much taller than him, so this position couldn’t have been comfortable…

Before he has more time to demand his release, Noctis has summoned that dagger again, and with a brief look towards his shield and advisor, he hauls it up to an overhanging balcony, and in less than a second, he and Prompto follow in a dizzying movement. The prince lands with a slight stumble under Prompto’s added weight, but remains upright expertly. “Huh,” He said, a little miffed. “I didn’t expect that to work. I’ve never warped while holding anyone before…”

Prompto barely held back a gag. Travelling at such a high speed whilst dangling upside down was enough to make him feel queasy. He’d always had a delicate stomach. “What was that?” He managed to moan a moment later.

Noctis kindly let him down, holding Prompto’s arm to make sure the blond didn’t tip over. “You mean you don’t know?” His voice was taken-aback. “Haven’t you ever seen Ardyn-“

Prompto jerked upright at the name, and seized Noctis’s hand. “Quick! Let’s go! You got us a head start, but Papa is really fast! He’s probably coming up the stairs right now!”

“But he doesn’t need-“

“C’mon, Noct!” Prompto pleaded, tugging at his hand hastily. “I can’t find your room on my own!”

Noctis appeared thoughtful, but ultimately nodded his head with a grin. “Alright. We better hurry, if Ardyn is so quick.”

“Oh, he is!” Prompto affirmed, as the pair took off running. He allowed himself to be led by the hand, matching pace with the prince easily despite his lack of stamina training. “Sometimes it seems impossible how quick he can move, like he can fly! I’ve never seen him do it, though. He always moves at a normal pace around me.”

It took a lot of Noctis’s self-control not to stop and look at Prompto incredulously. Did he really _not_ know? How much did the perky blond _even know_ about Ardyn? Clearly the man hadn’t told him much about his past, otherwise Prompto would have realised the man could warp…

Was that why Ardyn, fully capable of following them, _hadn’t_ warped? Because he didn’t want _Prompto_ to see and ask questions?

Either way, Noctis really needed to discuss this with Ignis.

Such an eventuality could wait, however. He was determined to have fun with Prompto for as long as he could.

And there was no denying the bubble of joy still exploding in his chest from their kiss. It hadn’t been the first for Noctis, he’d pecked others on the lips before, but it had been the first one he’d properly enjoyed, and wanted to take further. It was probably a good thing they’d been interrupted, otherwise Noctis would have been tempted to keep fooling around in the snow…

Things finally seemed to be looking up.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all of this time (I didn't intend for this to be slow-burn but holy-shit look how many chapters have gone by) Noctis and Prompto finally move forward in their relationship! 
> 
> I wonder what Papa Ardyn will have to say ;)
> 
> (SPOILER ALERT: MORE BONDING AND DRAMA IS COMING NEXT CHAPTER)
> 
> (Please) review and tell me what you'd think if you'd like, but no pressure. You do you. 
> 
> Have a nice day/night wherever you are!


	12. But there's something in him that I simply didn't see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Noctis and Prompto's relationship begins to progress, the blond's relationship with his father begins to unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...guess who's back with another chapter of this mess?
> 
> Me! 
> 
> I know it's been a while, but I was kind of drifting in and out of this fandom and writing a chapter was kind of challenging. I didn't want to force it. 
> 
> Nevertheless here is the next chapter in this cheesy, Beauty and the Beast inspired fic!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy :)

 

* * *

 

 

When Prompto and Noctis first barrelled into the prince’s room, slamming the door shut and turning the lock behind them, the blond had been too physically exerted to do much more than moan, and collapse onto the closest piece of furniture. The adrenaline from his actions had started to deplete, and now he was left with pure horror over his impulsive actions.

After all, running from a beast was a sure fire way to heighten its desire to pursue. A predatory person like Ardyn would _not_ let this go. Even if he stayed away from Noctis’s quarters (which Prompto suspected he would) he would still be waiting wrathfully outside the confines of Prompto’s temporary sanctuary, and he would be _majorly-_

“Pissed off.” Noctis suddenly intoned, falling onto the leather lounge beside Prompto. His living quarters were the size of a large hotel suite, and luxurious in the extreme. It even had a small foyer section (although the room was open plan, asides from the wardrobe and bathroom) where they were currently seated, puffing for breath. “Ignis and Gladio are gonna be pissed off that we let Ardyn catch us doing…” His cheeks suddenly flushed, and he cleared his throat somewhat sheepishly. “ _That.”_

“We were just kissing.” Prompto defended, albeit weakly. “It was harmless.” He managed to flash a small grin. “Asides from the dagger poking into my thigh. Dude, you shouldn’t carry that around when you are straddling someone. It could have ripped through the fabric of your trousers and skewered me.”

Noctis appeared confused. “What dagger? I only summoned the one.”

These were two confusing statements, but Prompto only focused on the first, for now, mirroring Noctis’s confusion. “Then what was poking into my thigh? I definitely felt _something…”_ Prompto trailed off with realization, when Noctis grimaced. “Oh. _Oh.”_ He thought _that_ only happened in romantic comedy movies…

Okay, _maybe_ not.

Prompto laughed nervously when Noctis buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. It happens to the best of us.”

Noctis peeked through his fingers, expression hopeful. “It’s happened to you?”

Prompto’s cheeks felt hot, but he couldn’t lie to Noctis. To do so would be a disservice to their newly forged friendship. Plus, he wanted to give the poor guy a little reprieve. If he were in Noctis’s position, he would have fled the room from mortification by now. Yet Noctis stayed… “Had an inconvenient sudden boner? _Yeah._ I used to have a huge crush on this gorgeous mechanic in Hammerhead. She’s a little old for me, but that never stopped lil’ Prompto from rearing up when I first hit puberty. She never was fond of restrictive clothing, and I’d never seen so much bare flesh up close…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how perverted he sounded. “I sound like a creep, don’t I?”

Noctis regarded him earnestly, before letting a small snort slip out. “A _little._ But who can blame you? Easy sexual arousal is a natural occurrence in young people. At least that was what my dad and Iggy told me when they gave me ‘the talk’…”

“ _Ignis_ gave you the talk?” Prompto’s eyes widened in surprise, and a miffed smirk crossed his face. “ _Seriously?_ Dude, how awkward was that?”

“Extremely.” Noctis admitted, with another grimace. “It was like they didn’t know I had access to a giant library and high-speed internet. I pretty much knew everything that they said. School sexual-education was compulsory, as well, so I learned from that.”

“You went to a regular school?” Prompto blurted, in surprise. “I thought…” He fell silent suddenly, not wanting to say anymore and potentially upset his new friend and current protector.

“Thought what?” Noctis encouraged. “C’mon, I won’t be offended…”

“I always thought that a prince had no need for a mainstream education. That you’d be taught at the palace by intellectuals and scholars. I thought a classroom filled with commoners would be beneath your royal standing…”

“Hell no.” Noctis denied, with an adamant shake of his head. Melting snowflakes flicked from his raven strands, and Prompto noticed how his styled hair had become ruffled from their snow fight. It was lying flat on one side, like he’d just woken up from a nap. “It probably sounds weird, but I hated the idea of being taught here. There was no…freedom in that. I wanted to have the same experience as everyone else my age.”

Prompto felt a surge of understanding within him. “I can emphasise with that.” He admitted. “I always wanted to fit in with everyone else, but Papa and I travelled too much for me to settle down in a school anywhere. I grew up rather jealous of normal kids.”

“Me too. Every time Ignis would pick me up from school, or a teacher would accidentally bow, I was reminded of my birth right. I just wanted to be like the others, but even _they_ treated me differently. I was nothing more than an exhibition in a classroom.”

_All this time, I was thinking he **relished** being royalty, but it sounds like he felt just as lost and lonely as me…_

“Sometimes I wonder, if I were born _normal_ , if I’d be comfortable and confident in my own skin. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I don’t really feel like king material. A king shouldn’t second-guess himself like I do...”

_Shit got serious really fast._

But Prompto didn’t flounder. “Of course a king should second-guess himself, Noct.” Prompto uttered these words firmly, seizing the prince’s hand and squeezing. “A king who doesn’t reflect on his decisions is a selfish, unkind one. A reckless one. Was your father like that? Did he tell you to be impulsive?”

Noctis returned the squeeze, but more gently. “My father was very wise, Prompto, but I never saw him waver in his duties. Leading came naturally to him.”

It was evident the prince was loyal to his father, and admired him greatly.

But all Prompto could hear was _Ardyn’s_ voice, whispering about how corrupt and foolish the Lucian royal family was. Noctis had clearly made mistakes in his ruling (as evidenced by the prince’s current predicament) but was the king as just and able as Noctis claimed?

“Nobody is perfect,” Prompto said surely. “And _everyone_ makes mistakes.” He maintained eye-contact with Noctis here, expressing the double-meaning of his words.

_Stop the self-loathing. You’re better than you think._

Noctis’s blue eyes were intense as they gazed at Prompto, and for a moment, Prompto wondered if he’d ever be able to look away…

And then…

“So who taught you?” Noctis’s words were sudden, and stunted. A hasty change of subject, even as a faint grin crossed his lips. “About sex, I mean.”

“Who do you think?” Prompto joked, even as he grimaced at the reminder of _that_ time of his life. He’d blushed so much he’d thought he’d spontaneously combust from embarrassment. “I never had any technology when I was younger. Papa was always against it, the old fashioned guy he is. He said it ‘ _rotted the brains of youth’_ , so I never had the chance to Moogle anything about sex. When he gave me ‘The Talk’…” He trailed off, flushing at just the mere memory. “I was kind of innocent, which made it even worse. Since I hadn’t learned anything of that nature before, he told me all of these exaggerated truths, and even a few lies. It was his way of keeping me away from anything remotely sexual. That changed when I first had access to a phone though…” Prompto gave an awkward laugh here. “One of the lies he told me was that during intercourse a man’s penis would morph into a cactuar. The image of my dick turning green and spiky haunted me for _months.”_

Noctis, despite his professed supreme dislike for Ardyn, snorted at the mental image of a frightened child Prompto cowering at the thought of a cactuar cock. “Wow. That is embarrassing. I can’t believe you’re actually admitting that.”

Prompto elbowed the prince playfully. “At least I didn’t have a best friend help deliver _The Talk_ to me. How do you even look Ignis in the eye?”

“It was hard for a couple of weeks, but I got over it. Life’s too short to stay mortified over little things like that, and he _is_ one of my best friends. I couldn’t dwell on it forever. Although Gladiolus still likes to bring it up from time to time…”

Prompto seemed a little wistful, eyes soft and faraway. “It must be nice.”

“To have Gladio making fun of me all the time? Not really.”

“No, Noct. To have _friends.”_ Prompto picked idly at the band covering his wrist, and Noctis felt a surge of guilt. Here he was, complaining about his friends, when Prompto had _no one_ asides from Ardyn. He’d always thought himself lonely, but Prompto…

Well, the blond had it _much_ worse. Not only did he have a psychopathic adoptive father scaring everyone off, but he also had the added baggage of being Niflheim born. Noctis may have been stuck in the citadel, but he wasn’t dumb enough to believe that the world outside was completely peaceful and tolerant. A Niflheim born citizen couldn’t have had an easy time travelling around, especially in Leide, where Anti-Empire sentiment was certain to remain high, despite the years that had passed since Noctis had seemingly been assassinated. It would take much longer for such history to fade away unimportant…

What should Noctis say? Saying ‘sorry’ would only make Prompto believe he was pitying him, and although Noctis felt sympathy, he didn’t _pity_ the blond. Prompto was above such things. He was strong, and bright, and he didn’t need others looking down on him for his past experiences.

**_He deserved better._ **

Comfort though…

Carefully, giving the blond ample chance to pull away if he desired, Noctis clasped their hands together, giving Prompto a kind smile. The same smile Ignis gave him whenever he was feeling upset about something, and didn’t want to talk-down to or baby him. “If people didn’t want you as a friend, that’s their loss, man.” The casual phrasing seems to relax Prompto, and he squeezes Noctis’s hands in gratitude. “I may not have known you for long, but I can see you’re a good guy. **_Anyone_** would be lucky to have you as a friend.”

“You really think so?” Prompto sounds unsure, and Noctis is realising how low the other male’s self-esteem tended to dip. It was clear he had issues with his confidence, despite how well he hid it. “You don’t think I’m some kind of monster because of Ardyn, or because I was born in Niflheim?”

Noctis snorted once more. “Hell no. We can’t help were we are born, Prompto. The only thing we can do is help steer ourselves to somewhere better in the future.”

Prompto’s lips quirked upwards. “Somewhere better than the origin story, huh? I guess I’m kind of like a superhero.”

“Well, you’re certainly quicker than anyone I’ve ever met.” Noctis said, referencing their earlier snowball fight wryly. “And your aim isn’t half-bad, either. You ever fired a gun?”

Prompto shook his head. “No. Papa always said guns were unreliable weapons. I’ve only ever fired arrows before, but after I almost show Papa’s foot when I was twelve he told me to stay away from weapons indefinitely.” He shrugged sheepishly here. “I’ve always been a little clumsy, and he thought it was better for my personal safety…”

Suspicion rises in Noctis unbidden, and he tries to push it away instantly. Still, it would be unwise of him not to ask… “Ardyn wanted to teach you about weaponry?” He hopes he’s kept his suspicion subtle, and almost sighs in relief when Prompto doesn’t seem to detect it. He doesn’t suspect Prompto, per se, rather he doubts Ardyn’s motives for teaching his ‘son’ self-defence. Who knew what deplorable plan the former chancellor had in mind?

“Papa has a near encyclopaedic knowledge about weaponry.” Prompto divulged, a little proudly. “Well, he has an encyclopaedic knowledge about everything, really. _Never_ ask him a fact or philosophy based question, he can ramble for _hours._ Once he waxed poetic about the breeding habits of nagas. In depth. For _four hours._ More nightmare material…” He shuddered in remembrance, and Noctis wrinkled his nose.

“Gross.”

“I know right? Anyway, he didn’t actually _want_ to teach me. I’d just started reading a new comic with this badass markswoman, and I pestered him for weeks until he gave in and resolved to teach me _archery_.” Prompto grimaced. Evidently, he was not fond of the sport.  “My aim was okay, but I wasn’t very good with setting the bows in the quiver. After that experience, I resolved to stay away from weaponry completely.”

Noctis frowned lightly. “But you spend all your time photographing dangerous wildlife. It would be safer if you knew how to at least wield a couple of daggers, or something.”

“Like how you wield yours?” Prompto teased, and Noctis flushed. He laughed at the reaction, and shifted closer to the raven-haired male, until their sides were pressed together. They enjoyed the steady presence of one another for a moment, before Prompto whispered “Is this okay?”

Noctis nodded, not trusting himself to speak without making a humiliating noise. To compensate for his lack of verbal response, he wrapped his arm around Prompto’s shoulders, pulling them closer together. It was a nice, steady sensation, and the pair relaxed with individual sighs. Noctis’s quiet and content, Prompto’s louder and happy.

They stayed like this for some time, relaxing with one another, before Prompto finally grew a little bored of the silence, and wriggled against Noctis’s hold, pulling away to angle the prince a wide beam. “Hey, do you wanna watch a movie? I have my phone on me, and it has enough battery to watch a shorter film!”

_This_ had Noctis nodding with such enthusiasm that it almost took Prompto aback. The prince made grabby hands at the blond’s pocket, and Prompto laughed when Noctis yanked him close, a hand dipping into his pocket and pulling out the well-loved phone. The prince’s eyes were endearingly wide as he looked it over with reverence. “The screen is so big, and the camera too!” He breathed, and Prompto realised the prince probably hadn’t seen a newer model since before he was imprisoned. Or when the last visitor showed him, _if_ they showed him. “Is this Niff manufactured?”

Prompto elected to ignore the slightly derogative term of ‘Niff’, knowing Noctis didn’t mean to cause offense. “Nope. I got it second-hand from a tech shop in Hammerhead. Niflheim doesn’t produce its own brand of technology, anymore. The old companies were liquidated and fused into big commercial ones. There are only a few good manufacturers now, and the employees come from all over. If you want to know all the boring details about the merger, you can ask Papa. It’s like he was there to oversee it all himself, even though he hates technology with a passion! He thinks it dulls brains…”

Noctis barely heard a word of Prompto’s explanation, still fawning over the phone. He made to unlock the screen, and frowned when it requested a passcode. “Hey, Prom-“

Prompto reached over and gently pried the prince’s hands away, placing his thumb on the screen. “It reads my print.” He explained, when Noctis appeared put-out at having it taken away. “You can have it back now.” He said, when the screen unlocked, displaying the multitude of apps Prompto insisted on downloading.  

He watched with endeared amusement as Noctis played with the phone for a little while. The prince was filled with childish wonder, and it was nice to see him so awed by something, instead of tired at having lived at the same age for so long. He wondered what it was like, and if Noctis saw him as lesser, more immature…

“What movie are we gonna watch?” Noctis asked eventually. “I’d love to keep toying with this all day, but the battery will go flat if we don’t watch something soon.”

Prompto saw the disappointment in Noctis’s eyes, and wished he could find a way to charge his phone… “What kind of genre are you in the mood for? I know we can’t stream anything out here, but I have a heap saved…” Prompto was going to recommend a superhero movie, as they had discussed the day previous, but was cut off by Noctis gasping.

“Dude! Is this the new King’s Knight!?”

_Oh. He must be a fan._

Prompto smiled. “Yeah. There was a King’s Knight movie released a year ago, as well. It was a pretty good adaption, although it focused more on comedy…”

“We have to watch it!” Noctis said adamantly. “Now!”

“Sure.” Prompto laughed, as Noctis held the phone between them. It wasn’t the most ideal way to view a movie, but it would work well enough. It also gave them an excuse to stay cuddled together…

“Are you hot? You look a little red in the face.”

“No, I’m fine!” Prompto practically squeaked, and he tapped at the screen, bringing up the movie and adjusting the volume. “You ready to watch?”

“Yeah. I’d offer to get us some snacks, but…” He trailed off.

“I’m fine.” Prompto reassured, and his face turned pinker. The prince was looking out for him, like they were on a real _date._

Was this the equivalent of a movie date between them? Their Moogleflix and Chill?

Prompto felt like he’d spontaneously combust for all of his blushing. He was glad Noctis seemed so distracted by the phone, otherwise the man would probably think he was some hybrid Lucian tomato…

“The quality is amazing!” Noctis gushed, as the credits began. “Wow, is that-“

“Shush.” Prompto said quietly. “It’s about to begin. I don’t have the battery for a replay.”

“Oh.” Noctis lowered his voice to a comically quiet pitch. “Okay.”

The pair re-focused on the movie, and lost themselves to the plot.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe how funny that was!” Noctis gushed a few hours later, eyes bright with humour. “All that action mixed with comedy, and that end part with the nudity! Ignis would _hate_ that. He’d think it would cheapen the film.”

“I bet you’re glad you watched it with me then.” Prompto said, picking at a bowl of popcorn the aforementioned advisor had brought them mid-way through the film. He’d popped his head in with the offering, rightfully assuming what the pair had been doing. Prompto hadn’t been able to look him in the face, knowing that the man had caught him playing tonsil hockey with Noctis. He hoped the man wouldn’t flay him alive…

Maybe his standards were Ardyn high. That was certainly what his papa would do to Noctis…

“Totally.” Noctis agreed wholeheartedly. “I’ve never had so much fun watching a movie with another person before. Our sense of humour is so similar! _And_ you have a really cute laugh, dude. Like a chocobo’s ‘kweh’.”

“More like a nasally nymph’s cackling.” Prompto rebutted dryly. “I’ve been told my laugh is obnoxious before.”

“Well it sounded adorable to me.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush.”

“That isn’t exactly hard.” Noctis teased, leaning forward until their foreheads were touching. “You feel _really_ hot.”

“Do I look really hot?”

Pause.

Prompto cringed. _Why, oh why did I have to say that!? I always say the most embarrassing stuff whenever I try to flirt. He’s going to rip on me so bad-_

“Mhm. Maybe you should take off a layer to cool down.”

_Or he could cringe-flirt right back. The amount of awkwardness in that suggestion…_

“Not gonna lie. The fact you sound as awkward as me when flirting is a massive turn-on.” Prompto replied honestly, his anxiety melting away.

“You’re turned on?”

“A little.” Prompto said, not embarrassed to admit it. “I’ve been a little turned on since you cut me off in the snow, to be honest. And we’re here alone, touching…”

Noctis practically _squirmed_ , crossing his thighs. “We could.” He cleared his throat, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Always continue were we left off, you know…”

“Why didn’t we, when we got here?” Prompto was curious. “I expected you to jump me. We _are_ in your room after all. But we had a conversation, and watched a movie together…”

“Would you have preferred that? Was this insulting?”

Prompto shook his head, not regretful in the slightest. He pecked Noctis on the cheek, as the prince seemed a moment away from an analytical breakdown as he second-guessed every decision he’d made since entering his bedroom with Prompto. “It’s flattering.” Prompto giggled when Noctis raised a hand to his cheek, miffed with his own daring. He’d just _kissed_ a prince! And the prince was blushing like a maiden, to boot… “And I had a really fun time with you. The _funnest,_ actually.”

“I had the funnest time with you as well.”

There was a moment of shared happiness, and Prompto was preparing to kiss the prince again, when-

“High-praise from the pair of you.”

Igni’s crisp voice rang through the room, with an underlying tone of amusement.

Immediately, the pair separated, embarrassed at the interruption.

“Do you know how to knock?” Noctis grumbled, glowering half-heartedly at his advisor.  

“I was under the impression that we were to be keeping the door open, Highness. We wouldn’t want you two to get up to any mischief and compromise your chastity.” Ignis’s voice is deadpan, and it takes Prompto a moment to realise the man is _kidding._

“Ignis, did you just make a _joke_?” Prompto was in slight disbelief.

“Guilty as charged.” Ignis replied flatly. “I am sorry to interrupt once more, but I feel the pair of you were out in the snow for far too long today. It would be best if you both bathed, and settled down for the evening.”

Noctis and Prompto let out simultaneous whines of complaint, not wanting their _funnest day ever_ to end. Ignis found it rather amusing, to see the two young men complain like a pair of petulant teenagers who didn’t want to turn off the television and go to bed. Unfortunately, his interruption was necessary. And timely.

He may have wanted the relationship to come to fruition, but not so hastily. Noctis and Prompto needed to pace themselves, and Prompto in particular needed time to process his emotions, and not feel as if he were being pressured. Time to think was best, although Ignis was sure of the outcome. There was no denying the chemistry sizzling between them. He had done the right thing in giving Noctis the independence to pursue Prompto however he wished.

“Dinner, of course, will be served in the dining room.” He went on, ignoring the pleading eyes the pair sent him. “I have been whipping up a delicious three course menu for you both. Warm and hearty, as is appropriate for the weather.”

Prompto fidgeted nervously. “Um. Could I just stay here tonight, please? I can borrow Noct’s clothes, and we can eat at the table in here…”

Predictably, Noctis seemed enthusiastic about this. “That could be fun! I can show you my comics-“

“I fear that prolonging your time together may not be in _either_ of your best interests.” Ignis said, sending a significant look to Prompto, who immediately shrunk inwards. “Ardyn was most displeased with your earlier display in the snow, and I don’t think additional time will help sooth his wrath. If anything, I think it will make him _boil_ in it. He seems the type to stew in his rage.” This time, he gave a significant look to _Noctis_ , who appeared uncomfortable.

Prompto was too busy being overcome with sudden nerves to notice. Tucked away in Noctis’s room, he had almost managed to forget about the hell that was awaiting him outside of his fleeting sanctuary.

Ignis was correct in his assumption that Ardyn was the type to stew in his rage. He could hold a mean grudge, and disguise it like a gentleman until he was ready to unleash. Prompto had seen him do it many times, though never to a severe extent. This time though, he had a feeling it would be severe. He had single-handedly broken every rule the man had ever set for him in regards to physical intimacy, and Ardyn would not be appeased by a simple apology.

Still…

_Why should I have to apologise? I’m a grown man, not some swooning maiden who needs someone to preserve her propriety. I can handle myself, and Noct has been **completely** respectful. There is no logical reason for Papa to be angry. Perhaps if I approach him calmly, he’ll listen…_

Either way, it was time to rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid. Hopefully the sting would only be fleeting, and he and Ardyn could discuss this on equal terms. Besides, he couldn’t keep subjecting Noctis to fear of Ardyn. It was the prince’s castle, and if he was going to continuously defend his father from slurs, the man himself needed to act in a cordial manner. Otherwise…

He’d deserve them.

And Prompto really didn’t want any of the horrible things they’d been saying about his papa to be true. As childish as it was, he had an image of his father that he wanted to maintain forever. The eccentric man who had raised him and loved him despite his freakish lineage. He may have been strange, and a little embarrassing, but he was kind and affectionate and-

The way he had _looked_ at him and Noctis. Prompto had never felt truly _daunting_ fear around his father before. But at that look, he’d felt ice running down his spine. And it wasn’t from the snow. And the ice in his eyes was matched by a fierce inferno of rage on his expression. He’d looked like the monster everyone in the castle thought he was.

_But…I can prove otherwise. Papa was just being overprotective. If I’m reasonable, and polite, we can…work things out. I really like Noctis. He makes me happy. Surely Papa will respect that…_

With tentative confidence, Prompto stood from the lounge, sending a pouting Noctis a reassuring smile. “I better get it over with. His anger, I mean.” At Noctis’s frown, he hastened to add a joke. “Don’t expect to see me at dinner though, the old man might try and do something embarrassing like send me to bed without supper.” He gave an awkward laugh, which neither Ignis nor Noctis reciprocated. “He just needs to be reminded that I’m an adult, you know? We’ll sort this out.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Noctis, I’m sure Prompto would prefer privacy-“

“It’s kind of you to offer.” Prompto interjected, before Ignis went on a tirade about personal privacy. “But I think that would make it worse. This is something I should do myself. He needs to understand and accept that I am an adult, and capable of making my own decisions.”

“But-“

“I trust my papa, Noct.” Prompto interrupted once more. “He’d never hurt me.”

Noctis seemed to disagree, but fortunately, he refrained from protesting further. He was clearly remembering Prompto’s ire in the past whenever he badmouthed Ardyn. “Fine…” He mumbled. Ignis sent him a sharp look, and he puffed out a breath. “I…will respect your decision. Just know that I am always here to help you. As is my staff. And as for dinner, I am sure Ignis won’t oppose to it being sent to your quarters if you can’t attend. Perhaps Ardyn will be a little more reasonable with some food in his stomach.”

Prompto’s smile was the perfect reward for swallowing his princely pride. It was a beam bright enough to light up any of the dark rooms in the castle, and downright _beautiful_ to behold. A stretch of freckled skin, a flash of teeth, pink lips parted…

Noctis crossed his legs again, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious. Judging by the way Ignis rolled his eyes, the advisor had noticed, but chose not to comment. Luckily, Prompto seemed oblivious, too caught up in his happiness.

“Thank you for understanding.” He breathed in relief. “I should go now. Is he lurking anywhere in particular, Ignis?”

“I believe he is waiting in your chambers. Ravus reported that sighting.”

“Ravus? What’s he doing hanging around my chambers? He hates me.”

“Ravus has a…unique personality.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Noctis snorted, which Ignis gracefully ignored.

“It is hard to ascertain both his intentions, and his personal feelings. I doubt that he hates you, Prompto. He may dislike you due to your connection to Ardyn, but he would not hate someone so innocent. He is suspicious by nature, though, and I believe he’s been keeping a watchful eye on Ardyn, which explains why he is observing your chambers.”

“Creeeeeeepy…”

Noctis snorted again, this time at Prompto’s drawn out comment.

“Shall I escort you to your chambers, Prompto? It may be a little tricky to locate them from where we are currently situated. The castle was designed to keep the prince’s and the king’s private quarters secreted away, and hard to reach without guidance.”

“I’d appreciate it, Iggy.”

Ignis heaved an almighty sigh. “I see you have adopted the childish nickname Noctis created for me as a child. I really thought it would have ended by now. Alas, it continues to follow me everywhere I go.”

“Um…should I stop?”

“Not on my account. Call me whatever you wish, so long as it isn’t offensive or inappropriate.”

“Like how Gladio calls you _honey_ sometimes when he thinks no one is listening?” Noctis teased, and was treated to the rare sight of his advisor becoming flustered. “Or his _hot little Iggy-guana_ when he’s drunk?”

Ignis cleared his throat, trying to salvage his composure as Prompto cracked up in laughter. “That is _quite_ enough. If you would follow me, Prompto. Oh, and Noct, it is my _great pleasure_ to inform you that one of the courses tonight contains some of the freshest vegetables from the garden.”

“Wait, Iggy, that’s a joke, right?”

 

* * *

 

“Wash your mouth out.”

The demand is forthcoming as soon as Prompto edges his way into his chambers, waving a farewell at a hovering Ignis. The door closes softly behind him, and he faces Ardyn with a puzzled expression. “What?” He requests clarification, and barely avoids the instinct that tells him to _run_ when he sees the cold ire on Ardyn’s face.

The man has his arms crossed, as he leans against the bedpost. There is a sort of impatience in his posture, as if he’s as eager to finish this expected confrontation as Prompto. His normal jacket has been removed, discarded on the freshly-made bed. “Wash your mouth out.” He repeated icily.

Prompto mirrors his stance, crossing his arms as he stays near the door. “Why?” He is mulish. He knows it would be easier to just blindly obey the man, but this befuddles him, and he feels he is owed an explanation.

“I don’t want to converse with you when I know what’s been inside of it.”

Prompto flushed at the insinuation. “Okay, I _did not-“_

“His tongue.” Ardyn amended curtly.

Prompto deflated somewhat, embarrassed for his overreaction. “Oh. Is that…really required? It’s not like his tongue was coated in something disgusting. And I’ve eaten popcorn since then, so…” He trailed off, but Ardyn remained adamant, peering at him expectantly. “Do I really need to humour you with this? It’s ridiculous.”

“Do you not recall the lesson I gave you about the germs and bacteria that thrive within the oral-“

“We kissed, Papa.” Prompto stated bluntly. “We kissed and I’ll be _fine._ You aren’t daft enough to believe I’m going to catch a serious disease, and _I’m_ not daft enough to believe you anymore, so can we _please_ stop with the theatrics?”

“I see you jumped to a rather obscene conclusion before.”

“I’m a dude. We do that sometimes.”

Ardyn hummed, but it was not an accepting hum. It was a menacing hum. The kind he gave when he was trying to assure someone he wasn’t harbouring ill-feelings towards them.

Prompto’s palms suddenly felt very sweaty. “I’m…sorry you saw what Noctis and I were doing earlier.” He took a deep, steeling breath, preparing for the consequences that would come from his next sentence. “ButI’mNotSorryAboutWhatWeWereDoing.” Whoops. Too quick. Now he’d have to repeat himself.

_Goddamn it…_

“I beg your pardon?” Ardyn said, but his sharp tone indicated that he’d understood at least a little of what Prompto had been trying to say. The blond had a tendency to speak fast when he was excited or nervous, and he usually interpreted it quite well.

No. The man was practically _daring_ him to repeat himself. He was giving him the option to tap out, an out to the conversation. If the rumours were to be believed, it was more than what he usually gave others. A second-chance for Prompto to dig himself out of the hole he’d single-handedly shovelled for himself, and then eagerly fallen into.

Trying to convey confidence, he straightened his shoulders, and spoke in a slow, deliberate manner. “But I’m not sorry about what we were doing.”

Silence. Frosty silence. Like the room had been frozen over.

And then a volcanic eruption, quick and unpredictable.

With a speed Prompto had seen earlier in Noctis, Ardyn was suddenly before him, towering over him in an intimidating manner that the man had never once resorted to in all his years of raising Prompto. His broad shoulders boxed Prompto in, and he snarled down at the blond in fury, face contorting, and a side of it seemingly darkening pitch black.

_Is it really turning black? Is it oozing? Or is this just the effects of fear on the mind?_

Because Prompto was fucking _terrified._

“You will apologise and repent for your actions or I will _make you sorry.”_ The enraged man hissed the last three words, and Prompto was _sure_ he could feel the ooze seeping into his shirtfront. It was warm, and sizzled slightly.

He felt faint with the shock of it all. He had expected Ardyn to react poorly to his statement, but not to such a…aggressive extent. It was like he was _bullying_ him into submission. And the man had always scorned bullies…

It was downright hypocritical and Prompto felt a swell of indignation and anger replacing his shaky confidence and false bravado. It was a relieving reprieve from his fear, and he clung to it fiercely, despite knowing how anti-productive it was. “’Apologise and repent?’ Who the _fuck_ do you think you are!?” He matched the man’s narrow-eyed glare, trying to ignore the odd shine to one of them. “Some kind of messed up preacher!? And here I thought you scorned those who worshipped the Gods!” It was a low-blow, bringing up such an issue, but he couldn’t help himself. He was hopeless to the words blurting from his mouth.

“I. Think. I am. Your. Father.” Ardyn gritted out from between clenched teeth. “The man who plucked you from nothing and raised you as his own! I deserve respect!”

“So you’re going to hold that over my head?” Prompto scoffed to hide his hurt. “That you were generous enough to take in a failed experiment? A screwed up MT that you likely helped _fund_ to create!? I’m not stupid _Ardyn,”_ He spat his name spitefully. “I heard what people always said about you, about the programmes you helped create! Did you take me in out of guilt, or pity?” It was an insecurity of Prompto’s that he’d never voiced, even within himself. But it rose now.

Fleetingly, Prompto thought he saw hurt flash across Ardyn’s own face, before it was gone. “Perhaps it was both, _boy._ I never wanted a son, especially one as foolish as you!”

“Well maybe _you’re_ the foolish one, for even bothering in the first place!” Prompto _hated_ the sting of his eyes. “Perhaps you should have left me to die, or be experimented on!”

“Perhaps I should have!”

“Then why don’t you leave me alone now!?” He cried. “Since I’m such a failure!”

“Don’t you _dare_ turn this into one of your self-worth issues, you pathetic little boy. You _know_ this isn’t about that.”

“Don’t I? It seems like it to me!”

“Then you’re even stupider than how you act. This is about YOU listening to ME! Can’t you see what that loathsome prince is doing!? He’s trying to take you away from me! Trying to push us apart!”

“You’re doing an awfully good job of that yourself.” Prompto countered coldly. “I have done _nothing_ but stick up for you since we got here. I would spend my last breath defending you, if I had to, because you are my papa and I love you, but _why_ won’t you just try and get along with everyone? Noctis is trying _so hard_ , and he’s been so kind to me, Papa, and I know when someone’s faking. He likes me.”

“He’s using you as a means for his own ends. If you fall in love with him, the curse breaks. Once that happens, and he’s had his fill, he’ll discard you. And what will you be left with then? I’m trying to save you from a broken heart!”

“I can protect myself, and if I remember correctly, _he_ has to fall in love with _me_ , as well. It won’t be one-sided. And who even said I was going to fall in love with him? I’m here to find a way to break the curse in the library, not offer myself up as a sacrifice for the prince.”

“His intention is for you to fall in love.”

“If it is, then so be it. I’m not a sheep that will follow his commands. _You_ taught me better than that.”

“So you _will_ stop pursuing this ridiculous romance.”

“No. I like Noctis, Papa. He understands me, and we have a lot in common. If our friendship changes, then I won’t hold myself back. I’m tired of having _no one_.”

The argument had turned a little more docile, which only shocked Prompto more, when Ardyn’s hand reared back, and he slapped him soundly across the face. His head snapped to the side from the sheer force, and the sharp pain came shortly after. There was a ringing in his ears, and a disbelief that rendered him silent, eyes wide and leaking from the sting of the pain and the detestable betrayal of it all.

Ardyn had never raised a hand to him. Even with his traditionalist outlook, he had never lashed or smacked him. Even on the rare occasions when he accidentally hurt him, he’d never done it with intent.

But this…

He could feel the immediate swelling, and he stared up at Ardyn, whose face was stricken before he schooled it into apathy. He’d never looked at him like that, either. With no emotion, like Prompto was _nothing_ to him.

“You spoiled, selfish brat.” He said, and the disappointment in his tone was like Prompto had been struck again, this time in the chest. “You have never had _no one._ I have always been there for you, even when it went against what I _knew_ was better for me. Taking you in went against every rule I had made for myself, but I did it regardless. Furthermore,” He gripped fistfuls of Prompto’s shirt, and shook him roughly for emphasis. “You have _no idea_ of what it feels like to be alone. Truly alone, with no one to love you, or support you. The lack of gratitude-“

“If you raised me just so I could give you gratitude, then you raised me for the wrong reasons.” Prompto’s voice is soft, and his chest is aching. “I’d…like you to go now.” He feels close to sobbing, and he doesn’t want to break down, just to be subjected to more scorn. “Please.” He added pleadingly.

Ardyn stared at him expressionlessly for a moment, before releasing him. Prompto stumbled from being let go so brashly, and barely had time to blink before Ardyn was gone from the room. Strangely, the door remained firmly closed, his back still against it. How had the man left the room without opening the door? The windows were still latched, and they were too far from the ground for the man to land safely.

He was too tired for logic, and his face hurt.

His legs were unsteady as he wobbled towards his bed, and upon slumping onto it, he gave a loud, dry sob. He felt as pathetic as Ardyn said he was, and he had never in a million years expected the man to ever hurt him, even if he really deserved it.

…Did he deserve it?

He wasn’t energetic enough to ponder that question.

He heard a sudden firm knocking at his door, and quieted himself miserably. He knew it wasn’t Ardyn returning. The man wouldn’t bother to knock after the confrontation. He was tempted to ignore whoever it was, but knew it would be rude. Perhaps it was dinner…

“Yeah, come in.” He croaked, turning his face away from the doorway. He heard the door creak open, and the calm confident strides of who he knew belonged to the advisor.

“I apologise for coming so soon, but dinner was ready rather early.” A pause, as Ignis looked around the room for any sign of Ardyn. “I presume you will be dining alone this evening?”

Prompto nodded abruptly. “Yeah. Thanks for bringing it up.”

“I apologise.”

“No, uh, I mean the food, dude.” Prompto said awkwardly. “Thanks for delivering it to me. You didn’t have to go through the effort for me.”

“Nonsense. You are a guest in the citadel, and a personal friend.”

Prompto perked up somewhat at this. “A friend? Really?”

_I…can have more than one friend?_

“Of course. You being here has done wonders for everyone’s mood, and I appreciate how hard you are working to try and break the curse.”

“I haven’t done that much research yet…”

A pause. “But you intend to, and that’s what matters.” Ignis came further into the room, and Prompto saw him place a silver tray onto a table from his peripherals. A delightful scent was wafting through the room, but Prompto felt too shocked to eat. “Prompto, are you alright?” He didn’t wait for a response as he picked up a bowl from the tray, coming around the edge of the bed to look Prompto in the eye. Prompto averted his face, but not before Ignis caught a glimpse of the state of his eye. The chamberlain gave a small tut, and grasped Prompto’s chin gently, turning his face around to better inspect the mild injury.

Prompto clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see Ignis’s expression. He knew it would be judgemental. The man would probably criticise him for his folly, _for trusting Ardyn_ , when **_they_** had been right all along. Ardyn was dangerous, and there was something abnormal about him and his state of being. Why was he only noticing it right now? How hard had he tried to overlook Ardyn’s bad traits? Or was the ‘man’ simply that good at masking them?

He started when he felt something bitingly cold press to his cheek, and cracked open an eye. Ignis was applying a soft cloth filled with ice to the afflicted area carefully, eyes focused behind his spectacles. “Be still, if you’d please.” He instructed, pressing a little more firmly. “Now, are you hurt anywhere else? It’d be best if you tell the truth. I’m good at detecting lies, and I don’t want to make treating you a needlessly unpleasant ask.”

“He just slapped me.” There was no point denying it. Ignis would hardly believe he inflicted the injury upon himself. Besides, the angle of which he had been struck was unmistakeable.

There was a long pause, in which Ignis scrutinised him hardly, before giving an abrupt nod.  He guided Prompto’s own hand to his cheek, so that the blond could support the ice himself, and strode back over to the table. Prompto’s eyes followed him, and they widened upon seeing the assortment of medical supplies sitting on the large tray. It was as if the man was carrying around a portable infirmary. Prompto watched as the advisor thoughtfully sifted through a small container of salves, before selecting a bottle with a greenish liquid inside. He came back over, opening the lid and using a clean thumb to dab some of the gluggy concoction onto Prompto’s damp cheek. Immediately, Prompto felt the burning sting fade away, and he sighed in contentment. “What is that stuff?”

“A medical balm of my own creation. We don’t use potions for non-debilitating injuries, unless they are exceedingly painful. I created the recipe out of some plants and roots around the palace grounds. I’ve had the opportunity to test if amply, over the years…”

Prompto nodded, and a question suddenly occurred to him. “Why are you carrying around all of that stuff?” He nodded at the impressive stash of medical supplies. He had an inkling as to the answer, but it made his stomach turn in foreboding…

_Surely Ignis didn’t **know** this would happen. Does he understand Ardyn that well? Has he been this violent to others in the past? Or even **more** so?_

“I tend to err on the side of cautiousness.” Ignis moved away, washing his hands in the basin of water on the tray. “From our experiences with Ardyn, we have learned he has a tendency to lash out when enraged. I thought it best to be prepared for any eventuality.”

From the sheer amount of supplies, it seemed Ignis was prepared for a much more severe state of injury than what Prompto was currently in.  Was he going to wait until Ardyn satisfied his anger before barging in to help aid him? “You were listening outside.” Prompto accused, and Ignis nodded, not trying to deny his eavesdropping. “Why didn’t you burst in sooner, if you expected Ardyn to harm me?”

“I wanted to respect your privacy. I know how much Ardyn means to you, and felt that interference on my behalf would be grossly inappropriate considering the circumstances. And in the event that Ardyn didn’t hurt you, I didn’t want to catch you offside. I knew that my hovering would offend you.”

The explanation made sense. Prompto _would_ feel offended if his talk with Ardyn was interrupted. Even if he were to stop Prompto being slapped, Prompto would still feel like his request for space wasn’t being respected, and he’d be furious with Ignis. He might have even switched over his frustrations with Ardyn to the chamberlain just because it seemed _easier._ “Thanks.” Prompto said. “I guess.”

Ignis gave a small, somewhat grim smile, and plucked up a bowl covered with a silver lid, the type Prompto saw in chef movies. He held it with elegance, and placed it atop Prompto’s lap carefully. “A garden curry.” He explained, when Prompto lifted the lid to reveal the dish. The delicious aroma made his stomach cramp, and he felt a surge of hunger, despite his exhaustion. “Prepared fresh by yours truly.”

“It looks delicious.” Prompto said, and he accepted the fork Ignis offered him. He speared a piece of potato, raising it to his lips and chewing softly. It wasn’t soggy, despite having been marinated with other vegetables, and the sauce itself was rich and creamy. Perfect comfort food. Still… “Noct would hate this.” He said, smiling weakly.

“Indeed. However, I thought a warm, healthy meal would do wonders for you.”

“You made this dish with me in mind?”

_I’ve always preferred spicy curries, but Ignis makes everything taste great._

“Yes.”

Prompto’s eyes suddenly felt a little wet again, and he ducked his head. “I really appreciate it.”

“I think an early night’s sleep will be best.” Ignis busied himself adjusting the covers of Prompto’s bed, making sure everything was tucked in just so. “You’ve had an eventful day.”

“That’s for sure.” There was a hint of bitterness in Prompto’s voice.

“Everything will feel better in the morning.” Ignis consoled gently. “You will face the day with new clarity, and with a scrumptious breakfast.”

Prompto bobbed his head, and continued eating slowly. By the time the bowl was mostly empty, his eyelids were drooping considerably, and Ignis relieved him of the bowl before he could drop it in his tiredness. “I’m sorry…” He tried to stifle a yawn, and failed. “I feel really tired…”

“Do not apologise. It is understandable. Would you like me to draw you a bath? You should wash before going to bed. One always sleeps better when one is clean and warm.”

Prompto wanted to protest, to tell Ignis that he didn’t need to be coddled, but…

He was so **_tired._**

“Okay. Thanks, Iggy.”

“There’s that irksome nickname again…”

 

* * *

 

 

**PREVIEW FOR NEXT CHAPTER**

 

_“So the Drama Hobo went all abusive on his cute little ass?”_

_“…I don’t know what ridiculous thing I am meant to address in that sentence.”_

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Another melodramatic ending because apparently that's how I write¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Tbh it was kind of hard writing Ardyn being angry at sunshine son Prompto, but I couldn't really see Ardyn reacting well to Prompto's closeness with Noctis. 
> 
> I hope this messy chapter was worth the wait, and that it made you guys smile :)
> 
> (Please) review if you would like, and tell me what you think. ALSO, thank you for all of your comments and kudos, they keep me going even when I feel like quitting!
> 
> I hope you're all having a good day/night, wherever you are!
> 
> PS: The title for this chapter could apply to either Noctis OR Ardyn :D
> 
> PPS: Can anyone guess what the 'King's Knight' movie is referencing? I think it's kind of obvious ;)


	13. We don't like what we don't understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter dedicated to Ardyn coming to terms with what he must do next. 
> 
> Also, Ignis and Aranea share a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a short intermission chapter than a plot-filled one. It will explain what is coming next ;)
> 
> I can't believe this story has dragged out for so long. I regret not planning it out better and making it shorter. Oh well, I hope some of you guys like it, at least :)

 

* * *

 

 

**_13 Years Ago_ **

 

 

“Tell me, sweet one, why you decided to assault that other child?” Ardyn asks the question without a hint of displeasure, merely befuddlement. Prompto has never been a violent child, and has yet to lash out at anyone physically. He’s alarmingly sweet and docile, in that regard. He wouldn’t hurt a fly unless truly antagonised.

Naturally, he’s interested to know who was caused such distress in his son.

Prompto mumbled something under his breath, and Ardyn grasped his chin gently, tilting his face up so that their eyes could meet. The little boy had a bruise blossoming at his temple, a split lip, and a scrape across one eyebrow. All injuries from the other child, who had struck and shoved him, presumably before Prompto fought back.

Ardyn had had to _separate them bodily._ His Prompto was rather fiery when angered enough. Not only had he given the other child a bloody nose from a strong punch, he’d also lobbed a rather large stone at his head, resulting in a momentous bump. He didn’t know whether to be disapproving or impressed with his impeccable aim. He settled for a mixture of both.

Well, he was mostly impressed. Undoubtedly the other child had done something terrible to bring about such violent impulses in Prompto. The other child would have had it coming, in Ardyn’s opinion. Still, he had to investigate…

“Tell your dear old father what happened, hmm? Then I can make dinner and we can pretend like this whole dreadful affair never happened…”

Oh yes, he’d make dinner, and afterwards he’d find that little brat and terrorise him with shadows and illusions until he’d never _dare_ look in Prompto’s direction again. With any luck, the other child would never bully again. Ardyn may have scorned humans, but those who picked on the weak and fragile were truly the more deplorable part of humanity. 

And Prompto was _his. **His**_ precious son, his beautiful, beaming sunflower…

The sole exception of his hate towards humanity.

For who could hate Prompto? Even as an infant he’d been achingly hard to refuse…

“Not hungry.” Prompto murmured, a frown on his face. “Can you let me go? _Now?”_

There was a hint of impatient irritation in his voice, and Ardyn’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t expected the boy to use that tone until he’d hit puberty… “Now, I’m sure I raised a _mannerly_ boy, Prompto. You do not speak in such a tone to me.”

Astrals, even his _scolding_ was lacklustre with the boy. It was hard to chide him when he looked so pathetically downtrodden.

Prompto seemed to shrink under the scold. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m just tired…”

Ardyn released him, and made a slight tutting sound. “I am unsurprised by that revelation. Brawling like a common animal does tend to tire one out.”

“You have experience with that?”

Ardyn flicked his son on the forehead, ignoring the boy’s whiny complaint from the action. “Cheeky brat. Come inside the caravan, now. Brawling also works up an appetite, and I’d wager you’re ravenous by now.”

Ravenous enough to even eat his cooking without a poorly disguised grimace. Prompto’s attempts to conceal his distaste for Ardyn’s cooking was admirable, but the boy had always been an open-book. Ardyn might have tried to amend his recipes, or perhaps learned some new ones, if he didn’t already know that his recipes were the perfect diet to keep his son healthy. In his considerable years, he had observed one diet fad after another, but the one he had adapted for his son was clearly superior. Eating the meals Ardyn made (as unpleasant as they may have tasted) would ensure a long life, with no health complications.

Surely eating smeared grasshoppers on wheat-bread wasn’t so terrible, even with taking Ardyn’s lack of taste into consideration? Technically, the immortal man didn’t require sustenance to live, but he had to once in a while, to alleviate Prompto’s suspicion. The boy was already under the impression that he lived off the contents of his flask…

Which was true, but it wasn’t good for his son to believe that. He didn’t want to appear monstrous to him.

**_Not ever._ **

So Ardyn concealed his impurities, his tainted existence, the ooze of the scourge and the murderous whispers that often had him twitching with concealed rage. He hid his past the best he could from Prompto, not wanting his son to learn the truth and _hate him_ , like everyone else did…

He’d do anything to keep the boy safe, and oblivious. **_His._** His special boy…

Prompto bolted into the caravan and dived onto his bed, turning his back on Ardyn in a resolute, unhospitable action. It was uncharacteristic. The boy was always so open and affectionate…

Heaving a small sigh, Ardyn opened the small fridge he had been keeping their food in. They’d been in Leide for a few weeks now, and at this particular spot for eight days. He’d been doing some research of the local wildlife, and immortalising them by painting. His livelihood as the former chancellor of the empire had gone dry a while ago, and he needed to maintain a living _somehow._ Certainly, he could connive and steal, but such dishonourable pursuits were best kept away from Prompto. 

Besides, he was a talented artist, and could easily sell his work at local markets and events so long as no one recognised him and kept business away. He made a generous enough profit, one large enough to continue trekking from place to place comfortably.

Sometimes, he sent Prompto to school for a couple of months, just to keep him socialised, but they never stayed in one spot for too long. Ardyn was a wanderer, a beast that couldn’t be contained to one place for too long without turning rabid…

Prompto, sweet child he was, accepted this manner of living without complaint, uprooting from new places without any tears or overt regret.

Ardyn wasn’t dim-witted enough to believe he was unaffected by it, but he was nonetheless impressed and endeared by the boy’s bravery. It must have been hard, for a regular human…

All the harder when Prompto’s oddities were pointed out. Prompto was keenly aware of the differences between him and other children, but he elected to ignore it. Embrace it. All he needed was ‘his papa’, his father to keep him safe and comforted, to teach him his studies and _so much more._

However…

“He called you a freak.” The utterance is soft, a whisper near inaudible. If it wasn’t for Ardyn’s inhuman hearing, he wouldn’t have distinguished what Prompto had said at all. The boy’s face is buried in his pillow, ears and neck flushed with anger and shame. “And that you shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

Ardyn was quiet, considering. Technically, the other child hadn’t been wrong. He was a freak. What regular person didn’t die? What regular person was infected with the scourge? What regular person could warp, change appearance, cause illusions and kill with such little regard? He should be dead, as well. Long-dead and buried, preferably worshipped for the amazing healer he had been…

His crimes against humanity would have been deemed worthy of death.

But what about what humanity had done to _him?_ What about what the _gods_ had done to him? He had pledged his life to their cause, to performing their bidding and saving humanity from the hideousness of the scourge, absorbing it in his own body, sacrificing himself…

And how had humanity repaid him for his dedication and kindness? With torture and scorn, with fear and ridicule, and the gods hadn’t even allowed him the sweet release of death…

They all deserved to suffer, suffer the same way they made _him_ suffer-

“Papa?” Prompto’s voice was worried. The boy had sat up at Ardyn’s lack of response, and was regarding him with concern. “Are you okay?”

Ardyn released the fridge door, and saw the slight dents he had left in the metal. He grabbed a medicinal ointment he had been keeping chilled in case of injury, and placed it on the counter, washing his hands in the sink and trying to calm down lest he frighten the boy with the daemonic expression he could feel crawling across his face, black and dripping…

He would never subject Prompto to such a hideous sight.

The cold water served in distracting him from his ire, and after a moment, he turned off the faucet and dried his hands on a clean cloth, bringing the ointment over to Prompto’s bunk. He dragged one of the cheap chairs over, and opened the container, dabbing a clean finger into the ointment. It was purely herbal, created with plants and roots, another recipe of his own creating. He leaned forward to begin dabbing it along Prompto’s temple (he’d already washed the boy’s face immediately upon dragging him back to their rest area, not wanting infection to set in) and sighed when the boy jerked away. “Prompto…” He started.

“Does that stuff sting? Like the antiseptic the teacher used on me at my last school?”

Ah yes. Another scrape Prompto had gotten into. Only that time, he hadn’t bothered with fighting back. He’d just allowed himself to be pushed around, not willing to resort to harming other people. Prompto was unique like that. His nature was kind and peaceable. Ardyn found it a little odd, considering all of the ridiculous comic books he read…

Alas, his attempts to introduce Prompto to fine literature had mostly been in vain. Prompto found such flowery and elegant works dull, and had no problem informing his father so. He may have humoured Ardyn consistently, but he’d never been afraid to express his opinion and tastes. He could be bull-headed, in that way. It was odd that he was so shy around others…

Yet, Ardyn couldn’t bring himself to worry about Prompto’s bashfulness around others. It merely meant that his true personality was solely reserved for him. Ardyn liked that. It meant no one ever stood a chance of taking Prompto away…

Gods help whoever tried to steal his son away from him. He would reserve no mercy for such a fool. Not that he’d ever let it get to that point. It may have been selfish, but Ardyn would make certain that nobody knew Prompto well enough to truly fall in love with him. It may have been cruel to deny his son of a romantic partner, but Ardyn knew, keenly well, that humanity was cold and would only dim Prompto’s sunniness.

Humanity didn’t _deserve him._

“No. That antiseptic was mass produced and sold in cheap drugstores. This was made by yours truly, and has none of that chemical nastiness. Come now, you know I’d never apply such lowly medications. My creations are unique, and only an extremely intelligent individual could replicate such formulas.”

“I think your head is growing so big it’s almost touching the ceiling, Papa.”

“There is nothing wrong with being proud of ones accomplishments, Prompto.” Ardyn makes a show of acting huffy, and it pulls a small giggle from his son. Immediately, he feels validation and warmth flood through him. It was all worth it, to make his son happy. “Still, I suppose humbleness is less obnoxious than blatant bragging.”

He begins to apply the ointment further, and Prompto relaxes into his touch. The cool temperature is soothing to the blond’s skin, and Ardyn can see the tension leaving his body and face, until he’s lax and compliant and so very _exhausted_ looking.

“That boy was bragging today.” Prompto admitted softly. “About how he has two _normal_ parents, unlike me.”

“Did you feel inadequate compared to his supposed superiority?”

Prompto wrinkled his nose. “Nope. His mama and papa seem so _boring._ I’d rather have one cool papa than two lame parents, even if you can be embarrassing sometimes…”

“That warms my heart.” Ardyn sounds sarcastic, but it is the truth. It pleases him to know that Prompto doesn’t regret not being raised by two parents.

“When he saw that what he was saying didn’t bother me, he started being real mean, Papa. He said some horrible things about you, and I just…” He trailed off, unable to explain the sudden overwhelming fury he had experienced.

“Snapped.” Ardyn provided, listening to Prompto’s story carefully.

“Yeah. Snapped. I couldn’t stop myself from hurting him.”

“And do you regret it now?” Ardyn’s voice is diplomatic. He wants to hear the truth from Prompto’s own mouth, even if he’d be able to tell if the boy was lying regardless.

“I regret that I didn’t make him take his words back.”

Ah. He sees.

“Prompto-“

“They always say nasty things like that papa, wherever we go if someone knows you! It makes me angry! They’re spreading mean lies about you and I don’t want to hear it anymore! You are my papa and you take care of me and you deserve to live!”

“So I’m not a freak?” Ardyn’s teasing now, wanting to calm the boy before he explodes.

Naturally, Prompto falls silent for a moment, contemplative. “You are.” He eventually said, flatly. “You can be really weird sometimes, but only I’m allowed to say that.”

“If you snap like that, and hurt others, unprovoked by violence, people will think they are right. That I’ve raised you wrong. You could get hurt Prompto.” Ardyn is firm, and unyielding. “I don’t care if someone threatens to slay me themselves, you _never_ initiate a physical quarrel unless it’s absolutely required. By all means, fight back if someone assaults you, but **_never_** start fights. It isn’t in your nature to thrive on violence.”

Ardyn’s morality was so dubious, that if Prompto had grown to be the type to thrive in a violent atmosphere, he would have provided it for the boy, just to keep him happy.

But Prompto wasn’t a violent person, and he’d only compromise himself if he tried to be, acting on righteous indignation. It would make him miserable.

“But-“

“No buts. It isn’t cowardly to be clever, Prompto. Make the smart choices, and leave the rest up to me. If you are being bullied, Papa can help you. I’ll _always_ protect you.”

“So you’ll never whack me like some of the other parents do to their kids? A girl in my class says her father beats her across her butt if she does something wrong…”

“ **Never.”** Ardyn promised, with complete finality. The prospect of hurting his son was abhorrent. “The day I raise a hand to you will be the day I undo myself. I will never harm you in such a fashion. I promise. On my long, weary life.”

“I trust you.” Prompto, always so eager to put his faith in others. “You’re the only one I can trust. I’ll do my best to make you proud, Papa.”

“You make me proud every day. Now, enough of this wishy-washy nonsense. We need to start preparations to move onward. I’ve heard of a rare species of eel that can be found in Accordo, in deep depths of water...”

 “You’ve already finished your work here? That was quick.”

No. He hadn’t. Ardyn still had many observations to make in his study, and a hypothesis to test, but he wasn’t going to stay in this wretched place any longer. Not when Prompto was being bullied so horrendously. He’d be welcoming unwanted scrutiny and hostility.

“Dedication is paramount to a speedy success, which is why you never see me sleeping.”

“But you make me go to bed early every night…”

“That is because I am an adult, and you are a little boy who needs at least ten hours of sleep to function properly.”

“So I can stay up late when I’m big?”

“Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions…”

 

* * *

 

 

_**Present time** _

 

 

Ardyn would never hurt him.

What a pitiable lie. An idiotic denial.

Ardyn stared at his hand with a sense of muted horror and despair, unwilling to fully comprehend the sacred promise he had made to his son, which he had just broken so cruelly and swiftly.

So much time had passed, that he’d started believing his own lies.

And Prompto had believed him so completely, that the betrayal and new-dawning in his eyes had been alien and shocking. The boy had truly thought him incapable of harm.

And he’d broken his promise, the one promise he’d been assured he’d manage to keep.

How, he had always thought, would he ever become angry enough at his sweet son to strike him? It was impossible, unheard of, and even if he did become infuriated, he would never resort to such a method of expressing his distaste.

Yet here he was, standing on the same balcony he had seen Noctis warp himself and Prompto up onto that morning, experiencing the worst hurt and self-hate he had felt in decades. He hadn’t felt this monstrous since he’d first started caring for Prompto…

He was deluded to ever think himself capable of being a father.

All he was capable of was destruction, mutually-assured, apparently.

He didn’t deserve that ray of sunshine.

And now he knew it wholly.

“Forgiveness can be given for any transgression, but only if one learns how to forgive themselves, first.” The voice is dulcet, and kind, and Ardyn grits his voice at hearing it.

He’d been so focused on his inner confliction, that he hadn’t noticed Lunafreya approaching.

She stands at a comfortable distance, knowing that approaching a beast like him too quickly could result in him lashing out. She’s foolish enough to have come alone, hands folded before her and face smooth of any worry. She is self-assured and confident, as always. Her bravery has always edged into fool-heartedness, in his opinion. The Gods wouldn’t save her if he decided to plunge a hand into her heart, at right this moment…

But he wouldn’t. He doesn’t care enough about her to even try presently, and the irksome female knows it. He’s too busy being miserable about his actions towards Prompto.

“Otherwise forgiveness is lost on them.”

Ardyn curls his lip, even if the expression is half-hearted opposed to his usual open antagonism around the supposedly ‘lost’ oracle.  “And I suppose your beloved _gods_ would forgive me for all I’ve inflicted upon humanity over the years?” He says _gods_ with derision, but she does not rise to the blatant disrespect.

“You have shown incredible progress in rehabilitation. Mistakes have been made, but you are correcting them, and the gods wish to correct theirs, in turn. There is no need for you all to continue fighting. Peace can be made, and not just here between Noctis and Prompto.”

“If you truly believe that, you are even worse of an opportunistic fool than I first originally assumed. How low the oracle line has sunk, indeed.”

“I believe, even at the expense of ridicule, that there is a way forward for you.”

“Then you are haplessly optimistic, as well.”

“Prompto is optimistic.” There is fondness in her factual statement. “A worthy partner and queen for Noctis. Lucis will need someone benevolent and cheerful like him. The citadel has seen great improvement in mood ever since he has returned. Is optimism only offensive to you when it comes from a source other than your son?” Ardyn refuses to answer, but Lunafreya does not seem to mind. She carries on her rather one-sided conversation. “Noctis is The True King, and will restore harmony to Eos in due course. Why not find redemption in helping him with his task? If anyone could help, it would be you.”

Usually, Ardyn would feel insulted with such an offer. It is incredibly offensive to him. But right now, he doesn’t care enough to get truly angry. “You are forgetting centuries of bad-blood between me and the six. I have become their personal scourge, and it is partly due to me that you and your prince remain locked in this castle. _Me_ , help restore peace to this wasted world? My mind was responsible for the magitek movement that helped wage war across it. Why would anyone trust, or put merit, in my words or intentions, even if I _were_ stupid enough to trust you and your _precious_ gods again?” There’s a sense of vulnerability coming to the conversation, and he pushes it away desperately. Suddenly, his instincts are piqued, and he can tell they are no longer alone. It’s a good excuse to end the interaction. “Go now, Oracle. It is to your own detriment to be close to me right now.”

“I understand.” She sounds sincere, as if she really _does_ understand an immortality of suffering _,_ and Ardyn resists the urge to slit her pretty throat. “I will leave you to your thoughts. But please, think on what I have spoken. This doesn’t have to end in another tragedy. I know your son deserves better than that.”

“For once we are in agreement of something. Prompto deserves better than the tragedy that would be his union to the imposter king. Good evening, Lunafreya.”

“Good evening, Ardyn.”

He hears, rather than sees, her exit. Her heels clack against the floor, the satin fabric of her dress rustles as she moves…

It isn’t until he is completely sure that she is gone that he speaks again. “My generous mood is rapidly depleting.”

A distinctive snort, and Ravus steps into view. There’s a smug gleam in his eyes, and a grimly triumphant expression on his face.

Ardyn immediately wants to split open his skull. “I am rather inclined towards violence tonight, High Commander. Or perhaps that title is no longer applicable. What suits you now, Servant? Housekeeper? Glorified Babysitter?”

“At least I am not under the delusional pretence of being a father.”

As much as Ardyn doesn’t want it to, that statement _burns,_ and judging by Ravus’s pleased snort, the man is well aware of that fact.

“I knew change was impossible for you. Raising a baby doesn’t erase years of wrongdoings and villainy, and one as ruthless as you can’t hope to sustain such a pure relationship forever. I pity the boy, for being cursed with you. Although I suppose his naivety is his own fault...”

“Prompto is no longer naïve to my nature, _lowly servant._ I have no need to play nice with you now. Hold your tongue, if you appreciate it being attached to your mouth. I’d sooner rip it out then listen to your arrogant murmurings.”

“You certainly are in a foul mood. And here I thought you’d be glad to hear my proposition.”

“The only thing I’d be glad to hear right now are the agonised screams of everyone inside of this castle.”

“Your son included?”

Ardyn inhaled deeply through his nostrils, trying to contain the scourge that writhed under his skin. It itched, straining at the containment that was his flesh. As stress relieving as it would be to kill Ravus right now, in the long-term it would be smarter to let him live. Clearly he has lost all sense of self-preservation after being locked in the citadel for so long. The former high commander had always been more refrained in the past…

Ravus must sense that Ardyn is reaching a homicidal point, as he immediately takes up a more pragmatic approach. “I was going about this the wrong way.”

“Pardon me?”

“I thought that by continuing to scorn Prompto, the prince and his underlings would fall into line and realise the mistake they are making in choosing him as Noctis’s future partner. However they have proven more illogical than I first anticipated. They are under the impression that _your son,_ a **_failed MT_** _,_ is the future for Lucis. I give begrudging credit, he grew up to be a semi-decent boy, but that doesn’t change what he fundamentally _is._ An experiment from Niflheim shouldn’t be in _any_ position of power, especially one that was raised by the former chancellor. If Prompto can be manipulated by you, in _any_ capacity, he is not safe in a seat of power, and by extension, no one else will be safe, either. I witnessed firsthand what you did to the emperor, and I have a sound memory. _You_ drove him to insanity, and you’ll do the same to anyone else close to Prompto.”

“I grow bored with your monologue.”

“My approach was wrong. I admit that. I see now that it has never been your intention to use a honeypot scheme, to use your son to seduce Noctis. You want them kept separate as much as I do. That makes us, as unlikely as it may seem, _allies_ in this scenario, and if we co-operate with one another, as unpleasant as it may be, we have a higher likelihood of succeeding with our shared outcome.”

“You want to _team-up_?” Ardyn says the casual term with disgust.  

“I want us to work together. I want us to find a way to break this curse without resorting to hurting the ones we care about, Ardyn Izunia. If we accomplish this, you can leave with your son from this place, and never see any of us ever again. If you continue to mope as you have been, we will achieve nothing, and I _personally_ assure you that Noctis and Prompto will be wed before the light dims and leaves us fettered here forever. And on the event that they do fail, they certainly will _after,_ regardless. I can’t see your sentimental son abandoning you or Noctis here forever.”

Reluctantly, Ardyn has to admit that Ravus has a point. Despite their disagreement, Prompto would never leave him here alone. He would doom himself to this place, withering away over the years into a sun-deprived ghost…

He doesn’t want that for his son.

There is only one way forward.

And if he and Ravus do manage to succeed in achieving something that has escaped Ignis and Luna for years, he can take his son far away from Noctis, and they can return to their former life as if this whole mess never occurred.

Ardyn offers his hand. A perfunctory gesture. “A temporary truce, then. We will collaborate our efforts until the curse is broken, at which point I will leave with Prompto, and never return to Insomnia. Have we reached an accord?”

“Almost. I want that promise to extend to Prompto. If we succeed, he can never come back here. Even with the intent to steer clear of the citadel. **_Never.”_**

It was not a difficult term to accept. “Agreed. And **_you_** must promise to stop Noctis from searching for him.”

“Agreed.” Ravus repeated, and shook Ardyn’s hand with his own, his grip strong and metal.

They separated a moment after, both wiping their hands as if they had been infected with something foul and catching.

“Then let us begin, shall we?”

Ravus inclined his head in agreement, and the two commenced their self-imposed mission.

Ardyn would protect Prompto, even if it meant making the boy hate him.

It was for his own good.

 

* * *

 

“So the Drama Hobo went all abusive on his cute little ass?”

“…I don’t know what ridiculous thing I am meant to address in that sentence.”

Aranea scoffed, crossing her arms. “The part about our sweet little shortcake getting abused by Ardyn Izunia, obviously, Ignis. You always get so caught up with semantics.”

Ignis sighed, massaging his temples. Usually he didn’t display such weakness around the staff, but he had known Aranea for years and had come to trust her nearly as much as Lunafreya. He could allow some of his true emotions to leak through in their interactions. “Our _‘sweet little shortcake’_ isn’t as innocent as he appears, Aranea. Here I thought I’d have to monitor Noctis for overstepping boundaries, but Prompto was behaving particularly amorous in the snow today.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? It will nudge the relationship along.”

“In the wrong direction, perhaps. Casual, spontaneous sex with no forethought will only hinder the proper relationship we wish to nurture and develop. Sex does not always lead to love, and love is what will break the curse.”

“Honey, you are preaching to the choir.” Aranea said dryly. “Casual sex was my main method of stress-relief until I got stuck here. That, and beating the shit out of my targets. The life of a mercenary didn’t exactly allow for love. But I’m not clueless enough to believe that sex _before_ that true love will ruin everything. It might foster their attraction.”

Ignis shook his head, and took a sip from his coffee. Astrals, he missed his Ebony. When the curse broke, he would purchase enough boxes of the stuff to last a lifetime… “I doubt Prompto will be seeking that type of relief now. He was shocked by Ardyn striking him. I believe a period of reflection will come upon him now. He’ll want to understand more about the former chancellor. We will all need to be supportive. A relationship break down between a child and a parent is always painful, no matter who it involves.”

“You sound like a psychologist.”

“Does that offend you?”

“Not in the least. If that’s what helps the boy, take that approach.”

“I studied counselling as I trained for my position. An advisor must be prepared for any scenario, such as providing emotional support for his liege and companions in times of emotional turbulence. I’m qualified to handle this. Although I must admit, I’m surprised to see you so protective over Prompto.”

Aranea shrugged. “I’m protecting our investment. He’s the only one who can save us from an eternity stuck in this shithole. The ‘forever young’ fuckery gets kind of old after a while.”

“Indeed, although I wouldn’t voice my frustrations so crudely.”

“Of course not. You have to be prim and proper, I don’t.” Aranea drummed her fingernails against her bare arms, thoughtful. “If there’s any way I can help,” She said eventually. “Tell me. Prompto’s a good kid, he doesn’t deserve the pain someone like Izunia will bring him. It’s **_all_** our responsibility to look out for and support him.”  

“Are you going soft? This isn’t an approach you usually assume.”

“Hey, I have no problem kicking his ass if he needs it, but not if it doesn’t help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have watchman duties to attend to. I’m pretty sure I saw Luna wandering around earlier, and leaving her alone anywhere near Ardyn right now is a recipe for disaster. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.” Without waiting for a returned farewell, Aranea stalked from the kitchen, mind focused on her job. She could be relentless when adhering to her duties, and took them quite seriously despite her constant sarcasm.

Ignis hadn’t been surprised to see her in the kitchen when he had returned Prompto’s tray from dinner. She always seemed to know what was going on in the castle before many of the others who inhabited it, and investigated thoroughly.

Matters were about to become a lot more complicated.

Ignis was going to need all the help he could get, and hadn’t minded confiding in her.

She’d be invaluable, if his suspicions were correct.

Ignis wasn’t foolish enough to believe Ardyn would let Prompto go so easily. There was a possessiveness in him regarding his son. The former chancellor perceived Prompto as the only _good thing_ in his life, and would clutch onto him mercilessly even if his claws came out and drew blood. He would hurt Prompto, and the others around him, if he thought it would return their relationship to its previous state.

Ignis couldn’t let that happen. He would protect Prompto, and everyone inside the citadel, and he’d use his brains and natural intuition to do it.  

And if all progressed well enough, Prompto and Noctis would be wed before the crystal's light extinguished forever, and they would be freed.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive how all over the place this is, I kind of just wrote it and posted straight away. 
> 
> Writing this story has gotten a little harder lately, and I've been feeling a little demotivated. This means I might take a short break from focusing on it until I get it back. Forcing myself to write will just make the story even more incoherent. 
> 
> That said, I have no intention of giving up on this. I just need a little time to feel happy about writing this again :D
> 
> In the meantime, I will probably work on other stuff, when I have the time. Feel free to check anything else out if you'd like, and hopefully I can give any readers a chapter (or two) before the new year comes. 
> 
> As always, thanks to everyone who has commented and kept me focused on writing this. I hope you all have a happy holiday period, and that you liked this chapter :)


	14. When my life has barely began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto reminisces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is more of an intermission chapter than anything. I wasn't going to post this at all (since it's not very long or coherent) but I thought it (might be) a nice, short holiday gift to anyone celebrating a holiday this season :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

 

 

* * *

 

**_Flashback_ **

 

“Papa, stop!” Prompto giggled, batting at the hands that tickled under his chin. His papa was in a silly mood today, and kept tickling him and ruffling his hair.

“How can I stop when you laugh so beautifully, my sunflower? And that smile, as well…”

“If,” Prompto hiccupped, tears of laughter running down his cheeks. “If I stop having my frowny face…”

“Frowning face, Prompto. Mirth doesn’t excuse you from forming proper sentences.”

“If I,” Prompto paused, the volume of his giggles increasing when Ardyn moved his hands to his sides. “If I stop frowning, will you stop, PAPA!” Prompto squealed when Ardyn picked him up under the armpits, and tossed him into the air. “PAPA!”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot possibly converse with you until you lose your sour disposition.” The man retorted, throwing the small blond child into the air again, much to Prompto’s delight. He’d done this lots when the boy was a baby (it had been a method to stop his crying, although sometimes Ardyn was rewarded for his efforts with vomit) but he didn’t do it that frequently anymore, due to the boy growing older. He may have been strong, but he hadn’t exactly stopped aging in his twenties, and he still felt the strain in his back. “I know you want to go to the carnival with your schoolmates, but I simply can’t allow you to go unaccompanied.”

“But the teacher-“

“Wouldn’t you rather go with your dear father?” Ardyn questioned, a theatrical pout on his face. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“No, Papa! It’s just-“

Up in the air Prompto went again, and Ardyn continued his conversation airily. “I know I may not seem as fun as the little beasts, but I assure you I can be quite enjoyable to spend time with in such a carefree setting. You can help me sell my artworks, and I’ll buy you shaved ice. Won’t that be nice?”

“But the rides-“

Ardyn let Prompto fall back into his grasp, with raised eyebrows. “You honestly expect me to trust the shoddy workmanship of those death-contraptions? Manufactured in _Galahd,_ Prompto. Galahd metal cannot keep chocobos in pens-“

“But chocobos don’t like pens, Papa. They like open spaces, even in captivity, like paddocks or stables.”

Ardyn rolled his eyes. “My little ornithologist . I’m so proud. If only you applied such an academic spirit to worthwhile studies…”

Prompto huffed, adopting a pout of his own. “The school kids get to go on the rides for free, Papa. If I go with Mrs Jones, I can go on the Ferris Wheel and the bumper cars, and go into the baby animal pen!” The boy is beaming at just the notion, and Ardyn feels a stab of jealousy, annoyed that _he_ hasn’t put such an expression on his son’s cute little face. “Mrs Jones says they have bunnies!”

“We see rabbits all of the time when we camp.”

“Yeah, _dead ones._ You catch them and then kill them!”

“Buying meat is just _asking_ for chemical diseases. Do you know how many preservatives are added to the meat you buy from shops, Prompto? I’m preserving your health. Besides, you always eat my roast rabbit. You love it.” Ardyn pointed out, flicking his son in the forehead.

Prompto frowned, and rubbed at the small red spot. “Can’t I go to the carnival, Daddy? Please?”

“You haven’t called me _Daddy_ in three years, Prompto.” Ardyn said dryly. “Are you that desperate to go with your class? It almost hurts my feelings.”

Predictably, Prompto fell quiet, eyes wide and horrified. “Papa…am I hurting your feelings?” He whispered, appalled.

Ardyn nodded his head severely, holding back a satisfied smile. “I’m afraid so, lad. My feelings are very hurt.” The juvenile phrasing immediately elicited a reaction from Prompto.

“Oh, Papa, don’t cry!” Prompto requested desperately, wrapping his arms around Ardyn’s neck in the tightest embrace he could manage. “You’re always my favourite, Papa, always!”

“But you flagrantly insist on snubbing my company…”

“I just wanted to try something different. All of the other kids were going, and I thought…” Prompto trailed off hopefully. When Ardyn remained unflinchingly ‘sad’, he buried his face in the man’s chest. “I’m sorry, Papa.” His apology was muffled, but Ardyn had inhumanly good hearing. And it sounded sweetly victorious to him.

It may have been cruel, and detrimental to Prompto’s social development, but Ardyn didn’t want to share his precious little miracle with anyone else. Other people were selfish, rotten beings, he didn’t want them corrupting his son. Prompto needed to stay pure and innocent.

And if he needed to manipulate the boy from time to time to achieve this…

He would do it. For Prompto’s sake.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Ardyn answered, rubbing his back in big, consoling circles. The boy arched into his touch, like a feline, or a particularly affectionate chocobo. “I just fret for you, pet. I want to keep you safe from danger. That’s not so horrid, is it?”

Prompto emerged with watery eyes. “Does…does that mean we can’t go to the fair? I’d rather go with you, Papa…”

“Of course you would.” Ardyn cooed, ruffling the boy’s golden hair. “And of course I shan’t make you miss such an exciting event. We’ll go together, as I specified earlier.”

“Can we ride the Ferris Wheel?”

Ardyn supposed he could Warp them to safety, if the machine malfunctioned. If it would make Prompto happy, and make him forget about those wretched children and that meddling teacher… “Perhaps we can have one go.” He assented. “But only one. I don’t trust carnival machinery. Nor do I trust their staff.”

“And can I go in the baby animal pen?”

“So you can smother the poor creatures to death?” Ardyn said archly. “I suppose. After you’re finished I can make a delicious meal. Newly slaughtered meat is always the tastiest. Accordingly, it is always exceedingly healthier to digest something you have killed yourself. You are assured of the meat’s quality and freshness, that way. I should show you how to prepare a rabbit stew, Prompto.”

As he had anticipated, the boy seemed horrified at the mere prospect. His mouth was gaping, his face pale and petrified.

Of course, Ardyn had to tease him further. “A kitten will be easiest for you to practice with. Their bones are smaller and more delicate. Snapping its neck will be simple.”

“You want me to kill a cat!?”

Ardyn frowned. “Astrals no, Prompto. I’m not some kind of monster.” Lie. “Baby rabbits are called kittens.”

“But that’s so confusing!”

“Indeed. I am firmly opposed to such simplistic titles. Life would be much easier if we addressed them by their species name. But people are so _lazy_ in their manner of speaking, these days. Foolish colloquialisms, word-shortening, fabricated variants. In my day-“ He paused, when Prompto openly rolled his blue eyes. “Pardon me, did you just roll your eyes?”

Prompto’s eyes widened at being caught. Ardyn disliked such discourtesy, although he had often seen the man doing the same himself when he disagreed with something. That would be what his teacher called ‘hypocrisy’…

“You cheeky little brat.” Ardyn scolded, but there was humour in his richly indulgent voice. “Ah, but I suppose you have inherited such habits from me.”

Prompto refused to be distracted, fixated on the notion of killing the adorable baby animals that would be at the carnival. His papa, though wonderful, had no qualms about capturing wild prey and killing them for meat. Most of the time, he avoided larger creatures, weary of Prompto (who he hated leaving alone) being implicated in the crossfire. This meant he reserved his ‘harvesting’ for herbivores, and the odd carnivorous creature small enough to kill with relative ease.

Learning survival skills was important, his papa lectured, whenever he grimaced or teared-up. One must always be prepared for any eventuality.

Prompto didn’t want to be unkind, but he would rather live with people opposed to the state of solitude Ardyn isolated himself with. He was drawn to them, like a moth to a flame, and always went back, despite usually being burned.

He wanted friends. He wanted acquaintances. He wanted strangers to smile and wave at him, like they did with everyone else.

But he wanted his papa more.

Which was why he would always stand by his side. 

Even if it made him miserable.

**Nothing could change that.**

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Prompto opened his eyes, startling in bed from the memory he had been reliving in his sleep. Unlike a dream, it held no falseness, no creativity.

A memory. One with surprising clarity, at that.

The stress and upset of his confrontation with Ardyn must have drawn it out of the recesses of his mind.

It wasn’t an ideal time to be remembering such occurrences, especially when it brought up so much confliction now.

Had Ardyn, all of this time, been fostering a sense of co-dependency? Purposefully, to keep Prompto isolated? He’d always known the man was overprotective, but never to such a manipulative extent…

What motivated him to behave in this fashion?

_Who hurt him? Who **made** him this way?_

Ardyn’s trust issues hadn’t just manifested on their own. Something had caused him to behave in such a fashion, and Prompto felt compelled to discover what.

He’d been too passive. He should have been kindly challenging the man, learning more about his past, no matter how adverse Ardyn was to speaking of it…

Love truly was blind.

_He raised me from nothing, loved me like a son…I was so caught up in gratefulness and adoration that I didn’t reciprocate his curiosity. I was a negligent son._

Harsh as it was, Prompto had neglected Ardyn. A true son shouldn’t deny his father’s faults wilfully. He should acknowledge them, and try to better them, the same way Ardyn had with him. He should have listened to Noctis and the others, tried to learn their history with the man, even if he had no intention of scorning him for it.

Prompto didn’t hate Ardyn, even now. It wasn’t in his nature to be hateful, or foster ill-sentiment for longer than a few days. He was fickle in his rage, no matter how potent it may come to be.

No, he felt sad. Guilty. Despondent.

_Pathetic._

Self-loathing was pointless, he knew. Ardyn had hammered that into him since his earliest years. Moving on was inevitable, and rewarding, and the biggest slight he could give to those who had insulted or hurt him.

(“Show them how much _better_ than them you are.”) He’d say, whenever a particularly tenacious bully pestered Prompto. (“ _That’s_ a worthy revenge. They want you to be depressed. The want you to _give up._ I know how fantastic you are, sunflower, and that should be all that matters.”)

Ardyn’s opinion was the only opinion that was supposed to matter.

It was ideal, in theory.

But Prompto was sensitive, and no matter how hard he tried to be dismissive…

He cared. He cared what they all thought. He cared that Ardyn was despised, he cared that he was loathed by association, and he hated the injustice of it all.

But through that hate…

_Please, just like me._

(“You’re right. Papa is all that matters.”)

_I want friends._

(“There’s a clever lad.”)

_There’s a part of me that’s…_

(“As long as I have you, I have everything I need.”)

**_So lonely._ **

Ardyn couldn’t fulfil every role that Prompto yearned for.

Noctis had made that abundantly clear.

How could the man expect Prompto to deprive himself of romantic partnership? Hell, even _sexual_ partnership. He’d always believed the man would come around to the idea eventually, but such a vehement, incensed denial…

Prompto had been selfish in allowing Ardyn to maintain such a strict attachment.

And now he had to fix their relationship.

And free Noctis and everyone else from the curse. 

And deal with his own shitty life.

Whoopdee-fucking-do.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but I've started writing the next chapter already so hopefully it will be out soonish :)
> 
> I've spent my time not focusing on this story, planning out the rest of the chapters, so that if I get writers block, I at least know what direction to head in.
> 
> (Please) tell me what you'd think, if you'd like, and thank you to everyone for your support! I hope you're all having a good holiday season, and if you're not (which I'm sure is the case with many people) I hope this has cheered you up slightly :D


	15. And this monster is mysterious at least

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto must confront Ardyn's past to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of the new year! 
> 
> I never thought I'd still be writing this. The plot really escalated, and here we are...
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading :)

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Prompto right?” The voice is dryly curious, and the aforementioned male dropped the saucepan he had been scrutinising, turning to smile at the newcomer. She looked vaguely familiar, but Prompto seemed to have forgotten her name. There were so many people in the palace, and so many he had yet to be introduced to, and even s _ee._

“Yep.” He chirped sunnily, ignoring the way her eyes shot to the bruise on his face. He’d steeled himself for such an eventuality from everyone he encountered. “I uh…kinda forgot your name.” He said, when she continued staring at him wordlessly.

“Crowe.” She answered, somewhat belatedly. She looked away, unabashed of her blatant ogling, and stepped forward to snatch the pan out of Prompto’s hands. “Sorry.” She said, not sounding apologetic in the least. “But Ignis has rules about guests cooking and cleaning. If any of us break them, he’ll lecture us until the chocobos come home. That stick up his ass has only gotten firmer the longer we’ve been stuck in this hellhole…”

“Oh.” Prompto was slightly disappointed. After awaking early that morning, he hadn’t been able to drift back off to sleep. He thought that occupying himself with something mundane (that still required a modicum of focus) would help sooth his anxious mind. Cooking had seemed a good a task as any, and although he was far from a culinary expert, he’d thought that cooking some simple eggs and toast would be a good way to distract himself. Maybe reserve Ignis a plate, to thank the advisor for caring for him when he’d been so vulnerable the night previous…

But he didn’t want to cause the man any consternation by breaking his rules merely to appease his own sense of gratitude.

“Is there…anything else I can do?” He asked, as Crowe started pulling out an assortment of pots and pans to begin preparing breakfast. It must have been her turn to rise early. Noctis had told him that his staff tended to work on a rotating roster, so that duties were delegated fairly. “Set the table? Put stuff on trays? Garnish?” He said the last one jokingly, and was glad when the woman snorted in amusement.

“My cooking doesn’t usually require garnish.” She said. “I leave that fancy work up to Ignis. And Libertus, although his garnish always tastes awful…”

Prompto recalled the large man with the mullet, and laughed.

“You’re a chipper little thing, aren’t you?” She noted with amusement, chopping up some fruit with a wickedly sharp blade. She wielded it with expertise, and Prompto felt a little envious. He’d never had the chance to properly train with a weapon before…

“Oh, ha, I guess…” Prompto trailed off a little awkwardly, not sure if it was a compliment or not.

“Is that why Ardyn calls you ‘sunshine’?”

Prompto visibly recoiled, surprised with the sudden invasive question. He opened his mouth, but the nickname Ardyn called him so fondly made his heart ache.

Hearing it from another’s mouth seemed almost grotesque.

When Prompto didn’t reply, the woman’s amused eyes turned a little critical, her nose wrinkling.

“It’s a slap in the face, to be honest.” She said, slamming the knife down with a little more force than necessary.

Prompto flinched. “I, um…”

“You’ve heard of the Kingsglaive, haven’t you?” She demanded.

“The soldiers who King Regis took advantage of? The unfortunate immigrants he turned into his mindless puppets?” As soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, Prompto realises he has made a mistake. Crowe’s nostrils flare, and she puts down the knife entirely.

“We were never _puppets,_ Prompto. We had independent thought, and we _knew_ what we were doing. Who told you we were mindless?”

Prompto flushed. “Papa said-“

“Your beloved _papa_ is the reason the Kingsglaive was required in the first place. He’s also the reason so many of my comrades are dead, and why I was nearly killed myself! How can you be so naïve? He’s a monster, and you’re putting us all at risk by insisting the prince _play nice_ with the former chancellor of Niflheim. If Nyx, or Libertus, or anyone else I care about gets hurt because of you, I’ll make you suffer the most exquisitely painful death-“

“Tell me about him.” Prompto blurted, before his courage ran out. The natural habit of defending Ardyn had risen as soon as the woman started insulting him, but Prompto had repressed it. He wanted to learn more about his father, and if that meant tolerating a little badmouthing, he would suffer through it. Knowing the past was more important than preserving an inadequate image of Ardyn. “Tell me about you.” He went on, when the female remained stunned by his sudden interruption. “Tell me about your comrades, and what it was like to serve in the Kingsglaive. I want to know everything.”

Crowe paused, seeming genuinely surprised with Prompto’s sudden interest. “I’m not the best storyteller.” She replied dubiously. “I don’t do voice effects. Or altering.”

“That’s fine.” Prompto hastened to assure, glad the woman was considering it. “I want to hear what you have to say. Sincerely.”

“Will you lob food or kitchenware at me if I say something you don’t want to hear?” She challenged wryly.

Prompto flushed a vibrant pink at the reminder of his juvenile behaviour from when he first entered the castle. He had lashed out in a childish manner. It was rather embarrassing, with the benefit of hindsight to reflect on his actions. “No. I promise.”

Crowe still seemed reluctant, but she nodded regardless. Once, stiffly, as if acknowledging something within herself. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you hear something you didn’t want to know.”

Prompto felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Had Ardyn truly done something _that_ bad? Something so horrible, that even hearing the tale would devastate him? Change his view of the man forever? Fleetingly, he considered taking his words back, stepping away from the situation to preserve his innocuous outlook and maintain his own image of his father.

It may have been cowardly, and contrary, and he would certainly later resent himself for it, but surely the self-loathing was more manageable than having his entire relationship with his beloved father ruthlessly scrutinised?

Then there was the sense of betrayal. Was it right, and ethical, of Prompto to pry into his father’s private life to such an intrusive extent? Ardyn had always been tight-lipped about his past, and now…

Well, Prompto was beginning to realise _why._ The privacy had been to protect him, to raise him in a safe, secure manner. Prompto understood the separation, and had always accepted it. It doesn’t matter who he **_was_** , only who he is **_now._**

**Was now**. Ardyn had changed since becoming trapped in the citadel.

_I owe it to him._

He owed it to himself.

There was no moving forward if he remained tenaciously tethered to the past.

So Prompto took a deep, steeling breath. He sat down at the nearby table, knowing his legs might become unsteady, and that this story was bound to be long. It occurred to him that he was seeking out the closest source, and that Crowe’s recollection may not be as reputable considering her evident bias, but-

There was a sense of urgency. He needed to know _right now,_ before he lost his nerve. Even if the story was half-told, or exaggerated, as long as he heard it now-

He could fact-check later, if need be.

Crowe didn’t share his tense emotion. She continued slicing fruit, even as she opened her mouth to commence ‘enlightening’ Prompto. “Well, Ardyn Izunia has always been a bit of a mystery to us. But we don’t need to know the whole story to say with absolute certainty-“

“Please stop.”

Prompto started at the sudden voice. He’d been so focused on his own overwhelming emotions that he had neglected to hear anyone approach. Or, more precisely, Lunafreya’s heels clacking on the immaculately scrubbed floor.

Despite her phrasing, there was no hint of pleading in her dulcet voice, and when Prompto turned around to better face her, her face was determined.

_I hope, one day, I can look as commanding and fearless._

Here was an individual self-assured in their own capabilities, and willing to exert them with the utmost confidence.

Crowe twisted her face in distaste at the order, but obeyed nonetheless. She turned to Lunafreya with an unhospitable expression, which promptly melted away at the sight of the fair oracle. It seemed impossible to be angry at the female, no matter how stubborn she could obviously be at times. “My Lady, have you foregone your early morning prayers?” There’s a hint of mockery in her tone, but Lunafreya doesn’t bristle.

“I commenced my prayers earlier this morning.” She explained. “The Astrals and I…we have so much to speak about. I have consulted with one of my dearest friends…”

Crowe’s eyes widened, and her eyebrows furrowed. “You cannot mean-“

Lunafreya raised a delicate hand, with an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid we must all speak of this later. Now is not the time.”

“But the prince! Does he know-“

“It is not Noctis’s time to know. But he will, in due course.” The lost princess turned a beatific smile on Prompto, and offered a hand welcomingly. “It is your time, Prompto Argentum. Please, come with me, and you will know everything you wish to know about your father.”

Prompto hesitated. Luna would doubtlessly be a reputable source of information, but her penchant for forgiveness may be just as biased as Crowe’s obvious vehement hate for Ardyn-

“There is someone you need to meet.” She went on in explanation, sensing Prompto’s doubt. “She knows Ardyn intimately well.”

“Intimately?” Prompto repeated, with raised eyebrows. He’d never once witnessed Ardyn trying to seduce anyone, even when the odd person (unware of his background) approached him with lascivious intentions, but perhaps in the past-

“Not in that sense.” Crowe added, when Luna appeared unruffled. “Right, princess?”

“Not in a romantic manner.” Lunafreya amended. “Or a sexual one.”

_I’m talking to the lost oracle and Tenebrae princess about **sex.** What even is this?_

“Then…were they friends?”

Crowe snorted at his naivety, and excused herself from the conversation entirely, citing a need to go train with Nyx and Libertus. She wouldn’t, she told Luna with a serious expression, speak a word of the oracle’s actions to anyone, assuming the princess would inform everyone herself when she deemed the time right.

Prompto sat throughout this with his mind whirling with possibilities, most of them outlandish. Because surely, Lunafreya had to be mistaken. If Ardyn had a friend, surely he would have known about it? Especially if they were available and ready to be forthcoming about the man’s past…

And Ardyn had always been against friendships, despite often playing the eccentric gentleman with the flowery words. He’d told Prompto, numerous times over the years, how all he needed was his son, to care for, to protect, to _nurture._ No one else mattered.

“How…” Prompto cleared his throat. “How old are they?” It seemed like a random question. A silly question, when compared to the more polite askance such as ‘What is their name?’ but the age of this mysterious person would be an indicative.

It would finally answer a question he had been musing on since his youth.

_What are the estimates of papa’s age?_

Judging by his appearance, Ardyn had to _at least_ be over thirty, and even with the excuse of inhumanly good genetics, his lack of aging over the years wasn’t adding up, _especially_ since everyone in the castle seemed to have known him before Prompto was even born. If that much time had passed since their entrapment, they shouldn’t have been able to recognise him immediately upon sight, even with his distinctive garb, as they had done…

All of these facts and fabrications were giving Prompto a headache, and his lack of progress at understanding _anything_ was becoming frustrating.

And perhaps, despite the joking manner in which he had humoured this thought in the past, Ardyn _wasn’t_ human. Truly. He was something else, something more advanced, something more _experienced._ A being capable of so much more than regular humans, Noctis included…

Unbidden, Prompto remembered Noctis’s surprise when he had admitted to having no knowledge of Warping. Had Noctis expected him to? And if he had, had his reason for believing Prompto had prior information been because Ardyn had similar capabilities? Or was it merely because the prince thought he would have discovered the power in his research?

So many variables, so many probable answers, it was driving Prompto crazy…

And there Lunafreya was, like an angel, sent to heal his tormented mind.

_This woman **needs** to be freed. There’s so many people who need her help…_

It was no wonder she prayed every day. The frustration she must feel, being unable to answer her true calling…

And the Astrals had tethered her here.

It befuddled Prompto. Almost as much as how Ardyn managed to bite into a slice of insect-laden burned sourdough without gagging…

His own brand of ‘pizza’.

Thankfully, the man had always reserved it for ‘special occasions’.

Prompto shook his head. Why did his father always manage to infiltrate his thoughts? Were they that attached to one another? Was it some kind of bewitchment? Did Ardyn place one on his taste buds? Was that why he could eat that revolting form of pizza-

_Stop. Just stop._

“Gentiana does not age.” Lunafreya answered truthfully. “She is like your father, in that regard.”

Prompto closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and sighed.

_I knew it. This is worse than I imagined…_

Ardyn wasn’t human.

At least not completely.

Which meant that Prompto would grow physically older than him-

“She will give you a genuine, unaltered history of him.” Luna assured, softly. “I promise.”

Prompto didn’t believe her. He couldn’t. Ardyn had always slandered the Astrals, lambasting them for their dishonesty and betrayal, their favouritism and cruelty. They were liars, and abandoners, and he should never, **_ever_** -

“I promise.” Luna repeated, slower. “I swear on my life, Prompto. I’d swear on the six, but I know you have some misconceptions about them…”

“You shouldn’t swear on your life. It isn’t some trifle thing. You’re an oracle.”

“And you’re my friend.” Luna countered.

Prompto’s heart warmed at the sentiment, even as the familiar sense of worthlessness kicked in. Why would someone like Luna be interested in being friends with a failed MT like him? She was too kind…

They all were.

“Will Gentiana try to turn me against my father?”

Luna shook her head, her silvery blonde hair catching in the small amount of sunlight Insomnia managed to capture. The weather seemed to have been changing lately…

It seemed more forgiving. Beautiful snow, and soft sunrises, opposed to frigid sleet and dark skies…

“That is not our intention, Prompto. Your relationship with Ardyn…it is a redeeming quality for him. It shows us all that Ardyn isn’t as cruel and heartless as he wants everyone to believe. He has spent a long time trying to distance himself from humanity, from _vulnerability._ **You** make him human, Prompto. **You** bring out his best qualities.”

Prompto felt the swelling of his face, doubtful. He’d never seen his father act violent before, but last night…

He’d drawn something monstrous from the man.

He’d disrupted their relationship.

 “I can see you are sceptical.” She went on empathetically. “And I acknowledge that that is reasonable considering what you have gone through. But please, see Gentiana. I will stay with you the entire time, if that is what makes you feel more comfortable.”

Prompto angled the oracle a small sliver of a smile. “I wish everyone was as considerate and understanding as you, Luna. You make the world seem like a much better place.” Obligingly, he stood, running a hand through the hair he had been too lazy and despondent to style that morning. He’d barely had the energy to change from his nightclothes…

He was glad he went through the effort now. Luna looked as flawless as ever. He would have felt even worse compared to her if he had remained in his pyjamas.

“Let’s hit it, then.” Immediately, he cringed at his juvenile phrasing. Gods, why did he have to be so insufferably _lame?_

But Luna didn’t tease him. She smiled, and nodded. “Let’s hit it, then.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Luna led him up so many winding stairways, and round so many corners, that Prompto ended up losing track of their path. He’d have to be escorted back down, if he ever had any hope of returning back to the kitchen or his quarters.

The tower they eventually entered was well-maintained, and Prompto huffed upon finally reaching it, feeling a little exerted. His shoddy sleep the night previous was affecting his usual stamina…

Scented candles wafted a sweet, flowery smell throughout the tower, and elaborate pieces of art and statues were situated in the circular room neatly.

There were kneeling mats on the floor, and a few instruments. Prompto wondered if Luna knew how to play them, or if they were merely part of the decorum…

“This is my space.” She explained, running a hand over a sliver table. It held a fruit bowl, and a vase of blooming flowers likely picked from the garden Prompto had had a snow fight with Noctis in. “I have spent a lot of time here, over the years. I come here to reflect in solitude.”

Prompto immediately felt like he was intruding, and took a step backwards, his left foot dangling over the final step. “I could always see your friend somewhere else, if you’d prefer. I wouldn’t want to…” He gestured inarticulately about the room, cursing his inability to hold a sentence without resorting to such clumsy methods. 

“You aren’t.” Luna assured. “I have invited you here. You do not trespass. Please, come inside. I have a bowl of juice chilling on the balcony. Have a drink.” She waved a hand at him, graceful even in her beckoning.

Unsure, but unwilling to disappoint her, he trod inside carefully. Immediately, he shivered. Was it just him, or was the tower uncommonly cold, even considering the balcony barely concealed by a brittle door? It felt positively _glacial._

“She’s just outside.” Luna said encouragingly.

Prompto nodded once, jerkily, and followed her as she practically _floated_ to the door (he felt thick and doltish in comparison to her elegance) and he shivered when she opened it, displaying a spacious balcony equipped with a few chairs and a table. The view, of course, was splendorous, displaying the rolling expanse of the royal grounds. Prompto could see a stable, and fields, and gardens in various states of care.

He was so taken by the view that he momentarily overlooked the woman who was gazing out, pale hands grasping the icy railing.

Prompto shivered at the frigid temperature, and cringed upon noticing the woman, knowing how foolish he would have appeared in his gawking…

His teeth chattered, breath visible in the air. “L-Luna said-“

The woman turned, and Prompto was struck with a sense of familiarity. Her beautiful features seemed recognisable, although her long, dark hair seemed out of place…

And Prompto felt the sensation of being heavily scrutinised, despite her eyelids being firmly shut. What colour were her eyes, he wondered? Why did she seem so _familiar?_ Surely he would have remembered encountering someone this gorgeous…

Then, suddenly, they slitted open, to reveal the purest of emeralds.

Immediately, in a rush, Prompto recognised her. He’d seen her depicted on paintings before, and even outside in marble yesterday when he had skidded across the ice to ambush Noctis…

The Glacian.

Prompto choked on his own saliva, fighting back the urge to flee. Her eyes didn’t seem as unhospitable as the statues, and her hair wasn’t silver…

But she was unmistakably the same person. The cold she cloaked herself in was evidence enough. The entire _tower_ had a different temperature, and a touch of her hand was enough to make icicles form…

And the juice Luna had been chilling had frozen. The crimson mixture sat solid in the bowl, the three nearby glasses glazed over with frost.

“Um…” He trailed off, speechless. Never in his wildest imaginings had he contemplated meeting one of the six, nor had he ever truly desired to. He’d always heard vile tales about them, and now here one was, gazing at him unflinchingly…

“Son of the Accursed,” Her voice was modulated. “You have questions that need to be answered. Will you listen to my objective recollections?”

“Will you recount them in an unprejudiced manner?” It takes Prompto a moment to realise he is _challenging_ the Glacian, and he resigns himself to an inevitable attack. Perhaps she’ll freeze him solid for his insolence, the same way she had that juice…

But her full lips quirk slightly, and her eyelids slide shut, conceding. “You are an independent thinker. That is a good sign. Brave, as well.”

Now he’s being _complimented_ by the Glacian.

  _Am I still asleep? Did I take any recreational drugs last night? Did Ignis dope me up with pain-killers before I went to bed?_

But the frigid temperature is telling. He couldn’t feel something so intensely in his sleep.

“I understand that you may not trust me. It is understandable, considering the close relationship you share with The Accursed.”

“You mean Ardyn, right?”

_This is not a positive start. The Accursed, **seriously**? Could they **be** any more dramatic?_

A small nod. “Listen with an open-mind, for I shall not repeat this tale. Even for one such as myself, I find it…difficult to speak of. The past cannot be altered, but it can be learned from. Learn from what I tell you, and if you cannot trust me, put your faith in Lunafreya. Wilful deceit is not in her nature.”

Prompto glanced to the aforementioned female, who had gathered a thick, knitted blanket in her hands. She draped it around Prompto’s shoulders softly, and gestured towards a chair that remained immaculately untouched by the elements. He followed her wordless instructions, huddling underneath his new sense of warmth gratefully.

Luna looked to the frozen crystal bowl, and the Glacian Shiva ( _Gentiana_ , Prompto corrected himself. That was what the oracle had called her earlier) placed a shapely hand over the top. Immediately, the ice withdrew, dissipating as it reached her palm, leaving unfrozen (but doubtlessly chilled) juice in its wake.

Luna scooped a ladleful of the liquid into a crystal glass, and handed it to Prompto.

Not wanting to drink anything cold, but unwilling to be impolite, Prompto took a sip. Immediately, he raised his eyebrows. He may not have drank alcohol that often (not since the last time he got haplessly drunk, really) but he could still detect the taste by memory. “This juice…” He trailed off. Were the two females trying to get him drunk? Startlingly enough, he wasn’t entirely adverse to the idea. Alcohol was a poor method of relieving stress, but a method nonetheless. It wasn’t like his papa was around to scold him for resorting to such measures…

“It’s mixed with a special wine.” Lunafreya explained. “But only a small amount. Your sense of taste must be quite advanced. Most people don’t detect the difference.”

Prompto squinted at her suspiciously. “Were you trying to get me drunk?” Then “Are you always slightly drunk?” That would explain why she behaved in such a relaxed manner…

“Consuming this drink with Gentiana is a tradition we have shared since my girlhood.”

“Really?” Prompto blinked in surprise. “Papa never let me near any sort of alcohol until I-“ He cut himself off abruptly, realising he was about to start rambling again. He needed to remain focused. “He said it killed brain cells.” He finished flatly. “Not that you act brainless-“

“Do you have faith in Lunafreya?” Gentiana pressed.

“I…” Prompto paused. Logically, he hadn’t known the female that long, but she had an aura of honesty that was hard to deny. And she had always been patient and understanding in regards to his father, even when the others weren’t…

The answer was simple. More simple than he could have imagined.

“I trust her.”

“Then let us begin.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Noctis? No Ignis or Gladiolus? No Ardyn?
> 
> I know. This chapter was kind of hard to write. I couldn't decide how Prompto would learn about Ardyn's past, and after re-writing a few ideas, I thought this was the most simple. Writing out a long explanation was kind of difficult for me, so next chapter will just have the aftermath of Prompto learning about Ardyn's history :)
> 
> I know Gentiana's inclusion was kind of sudden, but I thought Prompto would believe it better if the recount came from a source. 
> 
> If it feels like I'm cutting corners here, I'm sorry, but I have a lot planned for the coming chapters and I hope you enjoyed reading this regardless :)
> 
> Happy belated New Years! I hope you are all doing well!
> 
> And as always, a big THANK YOU to everyone who has commented and left Kudos. You guys keep me going and I truly appreciate it :D


	16. So it's time to take some action, boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath, and plans for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another chapter of this mess!

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Prompto? Are you quite alright?”

Upon hearing the question, Prompto gave a giggle. It’s a giddy, high-pitched sound, and he hiccups a moment later, his whole body jerking with the abrupt movement. “I’m – HIC – fine, Iggy.”

Ignis narrowed his eyes at him, sharply assessing the blond’s state. When his lips thinned, it was evident he was not impressed with what he had found. “Is he intoxicated?” He questioned tightly.

Aranea shrugged with a smirk, replenishing Prompto’s quickly depleting wine glass. The blond murmured his thanks, chugging down what had been poured. “He wanted to get drunk, I acquiesced. He looked like he needed it, Ignis.”

Ignis shook his head, and angled Luna, who was threading her fingers idly through Prompto’s golden hair, a look of great affront and surprise. “Lady Lunafreya!” He addressed sharply, utterly appalled by the sorry sight before him. “I thought better of you! How _dare_ you allow this young man to drink with such reckless abandon, especially considering the mental state he is bound to be in after last night’s-“

Most were afraid to interrupt the royal advisor once he started his lecturing, but Luna was not one of them. She spoke softly, but firmly. “I tried to stop him, Ignis, but he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t physically halt him.”

Technically, she could have if she wanted. Luna was stronger than she looked, and more than capable of defending herself if the need arose, but she never resorted to a violent approach unless it was absolutely necessary. It was part of her peaceable personality.

Ignis relented with a roll of his tongue, and turned his displeasure back on Aranea, who was sipping at a glass of something likely stronger than wine. Hard liquor probably, from the restricted cabinet that was supposed to be kept _locked,_ but Ignis often found tampered with. “ _Surely_ someone with your mercenary experience would be capable of subduing him.”

“So he can screech and holler at me, specs? I don’t think so. I’m not his mother. If the kid wants to drink himself into a stupor, let him. _He’ll_ be the one regretting it tomorrow morning.”

Ignis clicked open his pocket watch, and felt his stress levels rise exponentially. It wasn’t even approaching dusk yet, and already Prompto was displaying a high-level of drunkenness. He needed to stop drinking now, lest he run the risk of alcohol poisoning. From fruity wine. Perhaps he was being a teensy bit illogical…

Ignis may have been a little overprotective, but it was in his nature. He’d grown fond of Prompto, and had no intention of watching the other male make himself ill through excessive alcohol consumption. The blond may feel splendorous under the influence, but once that faded and the hangover set in…

“This is preposterous, _and_ irresponsible. I cannot divert my attention for one moment without something going awry. I daresay if it weren’t for my tendency to nit-pick, this lad and Noctis would have died in some foolish manner by now!”

“Oh yay. Your constant hovering has been validated.” Aranea was not daunted by Ignis’s displeasure, although she’d put aside her glass on the kitchen table.

Luna, who had still been nursing a half-full glass of wine, followed her example, not shrinking under the scorching look of anger Ignis sent her. She knew the advisor took his role of caretaker with the utmost severity, and such a reaction wasn’t uncommon of his nature. He’d simmer down, soon enough, and then apologise for losing his composure.

Prompto giggled, and tilted dangerously to the side of his seat, half of his body hanging off.

Well, maybe not as soon as usual.

“How much wine has he had?” Ignis tersely interrogated, taking a deep, calming breath when Aranea used one finger to prod Prompto back into position, a small look of amusement in her eyes when he merely tilted to the other side like a blade of grass blown by the wind. “ _At least_ tell me you monitored his intake…”

“The princess hasn’t left his side once.” Aranea said, in defence of the other female.

“Then certainly you can answer me, Lady Lunafreya.”

Ignis could be even colder than The Glacian when pushed to anger. If Luna were anyone else, she would have shivered at his icy tone.

“We saw her today.” Luna said, frankly.

“Saw whom?” Ignis sought clarification, even as his brow furrowed in quick understanding. He’d always been enviably quick on the uptake. He needed to be sure though, and plan his reaction accordingly. If Luna was speaking of who he thought, then it changed _everything._

And it was a good sign, if there ever was one.

If Gentiana had graced them with her presence, it was a blatant acknowledgement that Prompto was in contention for the throne. The Astrals had considered him, and he was to be Noctis’s partner and queen…

Or, fellow king, depending on whatever title Prompto was most comfortable with…

“Gentiana visited.” Luna explained. “I’ve been praying for this, and I’m glad she came.”

“Did she come to assess Prompto for eligibility?” Ignis knows he shouldn’t feel excited, but a modicum of hope blooms in his chest. If the god’s were amiable to the match, perhaps the curse could be broken earlier, and Noctis and Prompto could fall in love in their own time…

He ought to know better. He may have encouraged hope, but he knew all too well how fickle it could be. How fleeting it could be.

“She came because of Ardyn.”

Disappointment, and a startling amount of bitterness wash over him, but he holds back from letting it show. _Ardyn_ , why did everything always come back to him? If Ignis got his hands on that abusive monster, he’d kill him with his bare hands for hurting someone as sweet and kind as Prompto…

“Prompto wanted to learn the truth.” She went on. “About his father, so he could move forward with clear eyes. I thought his history should come from a reputable source. Someone who was around to witness it with their own eyes.”

“And he trusted her?” Ignis was doubtful. Ardyn had no doubt slandered the Astrals to his son, it seemed strange that he would seek an audience with one, even as shocked as he evidently was with his father’s actions…

“He trusted me.” Luna replied softly, her hands lingering on Prompto’s temples. She hadn’t stopped stroking his hair. “He laid trust on my word that she was being honest.”

“And he believed what she told him?”

“Not at first.” Luna admitted openly. “It sounds fantastical to an outsider, doesn’t it? He was sceptical, but when her account didn’t condemn Ardyn completely, he came to realise there was no point for her to lie to him. That, and it began to make sense to him. Why Ardyn behaves the way he does, why he never ages, his lack of sense of taste, and his inhuman abilities. It was logical, and coherent, and I was there to make sure Gentiana didn’t say anything biased. She understands that Ardyn is Prompto’s papa.”

Prompto, who had been humming to himself throughout the explanation, looked up with wide-eyes at the title. To Ignis’s abject horror, the male’s blue eyes began to water. “Papa,” He practically wailed. “He’s-“

Ignis prepared himself to hear the harshest insults everyone had been using to describe Ardyn. They run through his head, and he wonders which one(s) Prompto will favour. How he should react to hearing them, and how best to comfort Prompto’s evident upset.

  _A murderer. A traitor. **The Accursed**. _

“-been suffering for so long! I should have been there for him!”

_Of course._

He shouldn’t be surprised.

Ignis’s responding smile is both exasperated and warm. “Come now, Prompto. I think a sobering cup of coffee and a meal is in order.”

If Prompto could remain loving and kind even after hearing the gravity of Ardyn’s past, he would be a benevolent partner for Noctis indeed.

He was ideal.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m going to rip his hands off!” Noctis snarled. “And detach his jaw! I’ll break his whole _face!”_ For emphasis, he kicked a nearby table, the fixture splintering off into large chunks.

“Now is that really necessary?” Iris sighed, even as Gladiolus clenched his teeth and advanced forward. “C’mon, Noct. Don’t break the furniture. Who knows, it might have the souls of living people lying dormant inside…”

“It’s not the time for whimsy, Iris.” Gladiolus said, not unkindly. “Take his dinner tray and leave.” Ignis’s letter had come perched on it, an explanation as to his absence. The prince had spent the entirety of the day fretting over Prompto, and even Gladiolus’s most exerting training efforts hadn’t been enough to keep him distracted.

Ignis had told the shield of what had transgressed last night when he had returned to their chambers the night previous, but he had been sworn to silence. If Noctis lashed out, his progress with Prompto would be greatly jeopardised, and the blond would feel even more distressed, making the likelihood of him leaving the citadel again higher.

Also, they didn’t want to hurt the blond anymore. They’d come to care for him, and didn’t want Noctis’s impulsiveness making the poor kid feel even more terrible.

He didn’t deserve it.

Really, Prompto deserved medals and accolades for putting up with all of the bullshit that came with being Ardyn’s adoptive son. Most people would have lost their patience and faith years ago, but the blond kept hanging in there. It was both pathetic and incredibly endearing.

It was also a wonderful trait in a potential husband.

Iris huffed at her brother’s bossiness, but obeyed his order nevertheless. “You never know, Noct,” She went on, even as Gladiolus waved a hand at her. “They could be sentient. In another reality, we might have been turned into furniture as a part of the curse…”

“Iris.” Gladiolus said her name sharply, and the girl poked her tongue out, before flouncing from the room, clearly irked. Sometimes he wished for the times before Iris had hit puberty and developed her sporadic moodiness…

And a time before female sanitary items had diminished in the citadel.

Females, to Gladiolus, could be incredibly frightening, especially ones denied _certain_ products once a month. Certainly, old methods worked well enough, but…

Supplies were running low. The royal pantry was beginning to empty, and despite all of Ignis’s strict preserving and Iris’s gardening, food was becoming more and more sparse…

It was unacceptable, in Ignis’s opinion. Only the finest produce could be reserved for the prince, yet soon enough they would be dining on nothing but their own harvest…

Lots of vegetables, unfortunately for Noctis. Broth, and stews.

“Think rationally, Noct.” Gladiolus cautioned. “If you lash out, Prompto won’t forgive you easily. You need to be supportive in his time of need.” Speaking reasonably to the prince was not really the shield’s forte, but in Ignis’s absence, he needed to step up and play the role Noctis clearly needed. Being versatile and flexible was the job of any individual employed under the royal crown. Circumstances were subject to change, and they needed to be prepared for any eventuality. “That’s what he’ll appreciate most.”

Noctis sighed. “I hate when you’re right.”

“I hate when I have to tell you these things. A wise king should be more thoughtful, Noct. And as a lover, you should be more selfless, even if it means going against your ethics and being more tolerable.”

“He hurt Prompto.” Noctis persisted, but in a defeated mumble. “Mentally and physically.”

“And it’s Prompto’s job to deal with that in his own unique way. In the meantime, you can only be there for him. Why not concentrate your efforts on lifting him up instead of keeping him tethered down? Dwelling on this is a bad idea, trust me.”

“I guess I can, _romance expert_. Damn, who would have known those cheesy novels you read would come in useful one day.” Noctis teased, lightening the mood exponentially.

“It’s not romance. It is common-sense, something bratty princes have in short-supply.” Gladiolus countered, glad to be reverting to their usual bickering dynamic. Comfort and reassurance was best left to the advisor, when feasible. Though well-meaning, he was too gruff to provide what Noctis really needed in that department. “Now why don’t we come up with some kind of gesture together? Something that’s _bound_ to get blondie smiling again…”

“So long as it isn’t something lame that you and Iggy do together…”

Gladiolus held back a biting retort, not wanting to wound the raven-haired male. As much as he understood the duties he and Ignis had to fulfil, he still couldn’t help but be slightly resentful for the lack of time they got to spend alone together. The pair had always devoted their life in service to the crown, and the prince, well…

Noctis had a long way to go, and they had to help him along. It was a full-time occupation.

Gladiolus couldn’t recall the last time he and Ignis had shared a romantic day together. Or when they’d last indulged in a date night…

If Prompto could occupy Noctis’s time, they could have more time alone.

Just another perk of the prince falling in love and breaking the binding curse.

“Iggy and I do a lot of things together.” Gladiolus smirks instead. “But they’re probably too _adult_ for the little prince and his puppy love.”

“Oh, shut up, muscle-head.” Noctis grouched, flushing. “You know what? I don’t need your help. I can plan something _by myself_.”

Gladiolus made to object, but heard Ignis’s crisp voice resound in his head. _(“When he shows initiative in romance, we mustn’t clip his wings, even if he errs on the side of error.”)_

Noctis was an adult male. They needed to put their faith in him, as inexperienced with matters of the heart as he was. They could only interfere when it was absolutely necessary, unless he requested assistance, of course…

“Do you have any ideas?” Gladiolus could at least listen (mostly) objectively. “Or do you wanna brainstorm for a little while? I can get you a snack to stimulate your brain…”

“I just had dinner.” Noctis reminded in a deadpan.

“A nutritious meal consisting of solely meat and rice. If you ate some fruit and veggies once in a while, your brain would function better.”

“I’m not in the mood for your healthy lifestyle bullshit.”

“In that case,” Gladiolus picked up the bottle of whiskey Iris had had the forethought to bring up (he had the feeling her true motive was keeping it away from Prompto) and poured a reasonable amount into two empty glasses. “Let’s have a drink whilst you think. It might help you simmer down.” He pushed one of them towards the prince, and Noctis picked it up obligingly, taking a small, measured sip. He hummed appreciatively at the taste, and Gladiolus hoped Ignis could forgive him for opening one of their remaining best brews. And for pressuring Noctis into drinking as a coping mechanism…

Maybe he shouldn’t tell him.

They sat drinking in mutual silence for a few moments, nursing their respective drinks, before Noctis presented a suggestion with a smile, a pleased glimmer reflected in his blue eyes as he spoke. It was with assuredness, and Gladiolus was both surprised and impressed. The prince really was growing up after all…

“Prom _really_ loves chocobos. I told him once that I would take him to the stables to pet and maybe ride one. I bet that would lift his spirits…” Noctis trailed off, eyes distant and smile becoming a little brainless and goofy. His mind swarmed with images of the blond straddling a chocobo and laughing in a carefree manner…

Yep. Noctis had it bad. Gladiolus would tease him about this mercilessly later on.

“The terrain isn’t really appropriate for riding right now.” Gladiolus was reluctant to put a dampener on Noctis’s idea, but the slick snow was hardly the ideal condition for chocobo riding, and they didn’t have access to a vet to care for the birds in the case injury arose. It would be cruel to the animals, even if they would relish in the attention. “But I’m sure the birds would appreciate the company.”

Fortunately, Noctis didn’t appear too dejected. “I guess we can just spend time with them, then. After that I can finally show Prompto my comic collection…”

Gladiolus nearly groaned, but held his tongue. Did the prince want to remain a virgin _forever_? A comic book collection his size was hardly something to be bragged about proudly. The others who had come had been marginally unimpressed when Noctis showed them, far more interested in the furniture and the finery.

Perhaps Prompto was different in this regard, as well. Still, it wasn’t the shield’s place to judge. If Noctis wanted to have a nerdy date with the blond, he wouldn’t interfere.

“That’s the morning and afternoon settled, but what about the evening?” Gladiolus pressed. “If you’re going to spoil him on a date, it may as well be a whole day’s worth. Is there anything you’d like to do with him at night, besides, well…” Gladiolus waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive fashion, and Noctis scowled at him.  

“I’m not doing all of this to seduce him, Gladio. I want to cheer him up, nothing more. Prompto _is my friend_ , first and foremost. I won’t take advantage of him in his time of need.”

“But you are interested in him romantically, right?” _Please,_ Gladio thought, _don’t tell me you’ve deluded yourself into thinking your interest in him is purely platonic._

“I like him, okay?” Noctis’s scowl deepened, his cheeks pink at the admittance. “A lot.”

“Like, like-like?”

“What are we, eight years old? I’m _attracted_ to him, Gladio. Physically, emotionally, and…” His blush deepened. “Sexually.”

“Aw. Our little prince is growing up, and blossoming into a man.”

“Does whiskey have an asshole status effect?” Noctis grouched at the light ribbing. “Can you practice some restraint and try _not_ to make me self-conscious? I’m already second-guessing myself…”

Unwittingly, Gladiolus softened. “You don’t need to second-guess yourself, Noct. Anyone can see that the kid is completely besotted with you.”

“Really?” There’s tentative hope in Noctis’s voice, and Gladiolus rolls his eyes.

Honestly. The insecurity was _such_ a turn-off for most people…

But Prompto matched Noctis’s deep-rooted self-confidence issues easily. It was one of the reasons they were compatible. Noctis had never been able to foster attraction to anyone who was completely self-assured. It made him feel inadequate. The prince needed someone to speak his mind to, someone who wouldn’t be disappointed when he acted in a less-than-kingly fashion. Noctis was, first and foremost, a man before a ruler, and he needed someone who accepted that.

Empathetic and understanding, Prompto was a prime candidate.

“Really.” Gladiolus replied firmly. “Now stop acting like such a wuss, _Your Majesty._ Are you going to rise to the occasion, or flop like one of those fish you love reeling in?”

“The only thing I’ll be reeling in is Prompto.” Noctis mustered up some confidence. “I’ll show him the best time ever. Even better than when we watched the Kings Knight movie together…”

“Wait, you watched the new King’s Knight movie _without_ me and Iggy!?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I approve of your romantic plans.” Ignis nodded his head. “The likelihood of it improving Prompto’s current despondent disposition is high. I believe the distraction will be welcome, and a great opportunity to deepen the bond you two indisputably share.”

“You think he’ll be up to it?” Noctis questioned concernedly. “Luna came by after you escorted him to his chambers. She said he was mentally unstable.”

Indeed, the oracle had stopped by when Ignis had taken the initiative to put Prompto to bed, apologising for keeping her actions a secret and acting without consulting the prince. Although Noctis had felt mildly irritated at first (unhappy with Gentiana paying a visit to meddle with the one person he was finally falling in love with) he had ultimately conceded that Luna had acted in the best interests of them all. Her method of enlightening Prompto had been the least painful, and the most reputable. She had saved them a lot of trouble, even if she had been a little sneaky and underhanded in her tactics.

But they had gotten results. Prompto now knew the history of his adoptive father, and could commence in beginning to process it (hopefully) healthily, and begin the road to acceptance. Noctis was no fool, he knew it would be long and painful, but he was optimistic that with the right help, Prompto could come out the other side relatively unscathed.

It was what friends were for.

And lovers, hopefully. Noctis had no intention of giving up on the blond now, no matter how difficult matters may become in the future. Prompto was worth the hardship.

In any event, it was hard to stay angry with Lady Lunafreya. The longest Noctis had managed was twenty four hours, when the girl had remained behind with Ravus and fell into Imperial hands willingly. Even then, it had taken him a short amount of time to realise that she was just doing what she thought was right. Good-intentions and bravery, the oracle acted in a manner most befitting of her position, and her heart.

“He was incredibly intoxicated. The alcohol in his system was altering his mood and slowing down the limbic system of his brain. Due to this lessened brain function-“

“We know how alcohol affects the human body, Iggy.” Gladiolus cut in on the impromptu lesson, not unkindly. “My dad taught me, and I recall you and the king giving Noct a pretty big lecture after you caught him sneaking rum from one of the cellars that one time-“

“Hey! I wanted to try it. All of my classmates kept saying how good it was…”

“I apologise for my rambling. I do hope you pair are educated on how inebriation occurs, and the consequences of excessive liquor consumption.” Ignis said primly, eyeing the half-empty whiskey bottle pointedly.

Gladio and Noct had been drinking when he entered the prince’s chambers, a piece of paper spread before them, scrawled with romantic ideas that ranged from sickly to underwhelming, respectively. Gladio had always been a huge romantic, and Noctis was more of a, well…

His idea of a romantic evening was snuggling, taking the occasional periodic nap, and showing Prompto the album he had created for all of the fish he had caught over the years. Eating _junk food._

Unacceptable.

Luckily, Gladiolus had been able to convince the prince otherwise.

(“I know a fellow romantic when I see one.”) The shield had told the pouting prince after he’d shot down his idea. (“Prompto may act all blasé, but he wants the _real thing._ ”)

(“I thought we’d already established he doesn’t want material possessions-“)

(“Romance isn’t just about gifts, Noct. It’s more than that. Let me help you make a game plan. I promise not to go overboard.”)

“A private, candlelit dinner.” Ignis read loftily, with a sense of approval. “Very romantic indeed. I suppose we can accentuate the romantic atmosphere further with flowers and a classical music accompaniment. After dessert, you may share a dance in the ballroom-“

Noctis made a spluttering choking sound, evidently appalled with the prospect. “Iggy, you know-“

“-that you’re a doltish dancer with two left feet? Yes, I am aware you wish to convey such a message. However, I do recall you had some lessons to rectify that issue. I can keenly recall dragging you to those lessons to prevent you from hiding from them. Accordingly, I can remember that you managed to overcome your ineptitude, and have witnessed you dancing at royal engagements ever since. You certainly aren’t the most talented dancer, but you are _far_ from inadequate. Don’t presume to convince me otherwise.”

Noctis shrunk under the mild scolding, and Gladiolus sipped at his drink amusedly. The advisor had a meticulous way of dressing down people. It was fun to watch, when he himself wasn’t on the receiving end of the man’s displeasure. “But we don’t know if _he_ can dance-“

“If he cannot, you can instruct him. It will be a good bonding experience for the pair of you.” Ignis waved away the concern flippantly, picking up the whiskey bottle. He swished it about, before picking up a nearby pitcher and pouring water inside until it was full again. He squinted at the colouration, and sniffed the rim of the bottle carefully. “It will do.” He assured himself. 

Gladiolus squinted at him suspiciously. “Have you been doing that with all of the alcohol that is half-consumed? Is that why our supply hasn’t run out by now?”

Ignis gave a wry half-smirk. “You’d be surprised by how many people manage to sneak alcohol under my nose. I…reward their valiant efforts by watering down the remains when I eventually catch them, so they can enjoy the taste all over again.”

“As a guy who enjoys a good drink, that is _cruel,_ Iggy.”

“Is that why Aranea never seems to get drunk?” Noctis asked.

“No, Highness. She merely has a ludicrously high tolerance due to years of systematic alcohol abuse. She needs to seek help for her issue.”

“Babe, that’s a little harsh.”

“Ew. Don’t call Iggy _babe,_ Gladio. That’s gross.”

“You’ll understand one day, Noct. Sooner rather than later, hopefully.”

“So are we in agreement?” Ignis, ever the professional.

Noctis nodded determinedly. “ ** _Fuck yes_**. I’m going to give Prompto the most amazing date **_ever.”_**

“Hate to break it you buddy, but the ‘ _best date ever’_ was when I took Iggy to that street food festival in Lestallum-“

“Then I’ll just have to surpass you, won’t I?”

“Now _that’s_ the spirit, right Iggy?”

“So long as he remembers his manners. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a picnic lunch and gourmet dinner to plan. Everything must be **_perfect.”_**

“Ignis, please don’t stress yourself out. You always get so fastidious-“

“Fit for a king, and his queen-to-be…”

“I wouldn’t bother, Noct. Ignis is almost as stubborn as you are.”

“Oh, before I forget, I have one last amendment for your plan. Prompto is bound to be hungover tomorrow morning. A day for rest and recuperation would be beneficial for his physical state and mood. The date will commence the day after, once you and he have eaten breakfast and gotten prepared.”

“You really do think of everything…”

“It is my job, Highness.”

“What…what if he says no?”

Ignis and Gladiolus exchanged looks before laughing together. Noctis could be positively _clueless._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 “Ardyn.” Luna’s voice is placid. “Prompto knows. I thought it was…right to tell you. Now might be a good time to speak with him. From what I’ve gauged, his love for you as his father remains unchanged. It is the time to make amends and move forward.”

Ardyn looked up from the book he had been perusing, unsurprised. He had felt The Glacian’s presence the moment she had inflicted her presence upon the citadel. He still had a sense for those kind of things. Every instinct within him had _squirmed and writhed_ to find and confront her, to let the scourge loose on that deceptively pure female…

He’d refrained. He couldn’t deviate from the plan he and Ravus had been working on. Their co-operation was going remarkably well, considering. Likely that was due to their mutual understanding that they would keep quiet unless absolutely necessary…

“I assumed so.” He replied curtly. “If that is all you came to say, you may take your leave. I have no intention of reconciling with my son right now. If he wishes to see me, he can seek me out himself. Neither of us require your meddling. Now if you don’t mind…” Ardyn pointedly fixed his eyes on the tome he had open, and didn’t look away until he knew the woman was gone. He gave a weary sigh, wishing he could seek solace in (unrequired) sleep without being troubled by nightmares. So long Prompto had been a type of coping mechanism for him, he could always rely on his sunny disposition to cheer him up…

_Now that shrew Gentiana has visited, tricking Prompto with an illusion of Noctis is off the table._

Ardyn had briefly contemplated using his power to morph into Noctis, and break the blond’s heart whilst wearing the unworthy man’s face. Crude, but effective. That was no longer possible…

_I’ll have to keep working on this plan with Ravus. As brooding as he is, he makes a wonderful pawn. Once I’m finished with him, I’ll give him a suitable reward for his treachery. Perhaps an upgraded modification for his arm. He’ll need it to fight his way out of the hole he’s dug for himself._

If all else failed, Ardyn wasn’t above kidnapping Prompto. It may have been cruel, but the blond was gentle, he’d forgive his father. _Eventually._

Hopefully Ardyn wouldn’t have to resort to that.

One thing was for certain, though. He had no intention of losing.

He had successfully orchestrated some of the most horrible events in recent history, his meticulous planning wasn’t about to fail him now.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I am astounded with my own ability to know (somewhat) where to take this story and end up writing more filler ಠ_ಠ
> 
> The next chapter will (finally) have the date between Noctis and Prompto, and hopefully I can continue writing and finish this story that is dragging out longer and longer...
> 
> I really just want to finish this, but if I rush it too much the story won't be coherent. 
> 
> THANK YOU to everyone who has commented and left Kudos. Your support helps me keep writing even when I'm tempted to just put this on hiatus. 
> 
> (Please) Tell me what you think if you would like, and I hope you're all doing well :)


	17. To have someone understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto recovers from a momentous hangover, and resolves to move forward with his eyes open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if anyone is still waiting to read this long, drawn-out mess, but if you are, here's another chapter! And I'm sorry it's taken so long. 
> 
> Work, study, and general life has been hectic, and I haven't had much of a chance to keep writing this. I also had to re-read most of this fic, as I'd forgotten what had happened since I'd last been writing it...
> 
> REGARDLESS, (if any of) you guys are here, it's to read the next chapter, not my excuses. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it :)

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next day for Prompto passes in a hazy, nauseous blur.

His head throbs with pain, and his throat is parched when he first awakes.

Almost immediately upon slitting his crusty eyes open (and clenching them shut when the light practically _burns_ his retinas) he is presented with a cup of icy water, and instructed to take small, measured sips. (“We don’t want you dehydrated”) Prompto vaguely recognised Ignis’s crisp accent. (“I’m afraid we’re running incredibly low on pain medication, and I can’t waste a curative on such a minor ailment. Your recovery will have to be natural. Don’t fret though, I will be here with you every step of the way.”)

(“Thanks.”) Prompto had tried to express his gratitude, but only a moan had come from his chapped lips. He’d tried to prop himself onto his elbows, but the sudden movement had made his stomach lurch, queasiness overtaking him. Before he can even utter a forewarning, Prompto is falling forward, vomit rising up his throat and expelling from his mouth. It burns as it comes out, and his eyes tear up. He’d never been the toughest guy when it came to getting sick. His father had always doted on him too much…

And for all of Ignis’s diligence, Prompto can’t help but wish it was Ardyn here, looking after him. At least the advisor isn’t lecturing him about getting drunk, though. Ardyn would do that, even throughout Prompto’s splitting headache…

Ignis is prepared. A bucket is risen to his face, and Prompto expels the meagre remains of his stomach, mostly bile, over and over, until the cycle has him shuddering with exhaustion with tear-matted eyelashes. If he wasn’t so miserable, he’d be overcome with mortification, but presently, he didn’t have it in him. Later though…

If he didn’t die first. He felt horrendous. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so ill…

Ardyn’s healing past had always aided in Prompto’s recovery from illness.

He thinks he’s finished and pulls back, but then propels himself forward again, mistaken. He does this a few more times, before his body is empty and his whole body aches with the exertion. Ignis gently pushes him back against his pillows, mopping at his sweaty, pallid face with a warm, wet washcloth. He doesn’t complain about the smeared bodily fluid, rinsing the cloth in a nearby basin and repeating the process until Prompto feels _less_ _gross._

“I think that has passed, at least.” His voice is calm. “Please excuse me a moment.” Prompto’s eyes have slid shut, but he still hears Ignis stride purposefully towards his chamber's door, the stomach-turning sound of the half-full bucket sloshing accompanying him. The door slides open, and Ignis is addressing someone Prompto is unfamiliar with. “Monica, would you please empty this bucket and clean it?”

“Of course.” Her voice is obliging. She doesn’t seem at all put-out about emptying and scrubbing a bucket that had been full with human vomit. “Shall I disinfect it as well?”

“If you’d be most kind. I apologise for the… _unpleasantness_ of this task. I usually loath to bother you, but all of the other staff are indisposed today.”

“I heard. You must be planning something incredibly special.”

Hazily, Prompto wondered what this ‘Monica’ was speaking of. Before he could further contemplate it, however, his mind was drifting elsewhere. Primarily, the new weight that was settling on his legs. With no small amount of effort, he opened his eyes fully, and blinked with muted surprise when he saw the fluffy feline that had curled up there.

Its vivid green eyes regarded him haughtily, practically _daring_ him to complain, but honestly…

He didn’t care. He’d always loved animals, and although cats weren’t as cool as chocobos or dogs (in his own opinion) he still enjoyed their presence. Ardyn had always been more of a cat person, citing their independent personalities and moodiness ‘entertaining’, although most of them always hissed whenever he so much as looked at them wrong.

Now Prompto knew why. He’d always found it amusing, now he knew the creatures could sense something daemonic in Ardyn. That they were _repelled._

Prompto manages to send the cat a shaky smile, and it looks away, eyes closing as it drifts off into a doze. He envies the feline for its ease. If he were a cat, none of what worries him now would be relevant…

The cat must belong to that nice lady. It must have slinked inside when Ignis opened the door…

Its presence was comforting to Prompto. He enjoyed the warmth.

“-ith Prompto for the remainder of the day. I wish to monitor his condition closely. Lady Lunafreya told me he isn’t accustomed to drinking heavily, and I’m sure he feels like death warmed over right now.”

Damn right he did.

“Not that I can muster up a feeling of _total_ sympathy. His actions were irresponsible, and there is no _true_ excuse for wilful stupidity.”

Okay, _ouch._

“That established, I emphasise with the grief and confusion he must be feeling. I understand why he resorted to such an unhealthy coping mechanism, even if I don’t approve.”

Ignis isn’t lowering his voice. He’d known Prompto had been listening. He was lecturing him, _without_ lecturing him. It was a new method Prompto appreciated. Direct confrontation would have only made him feel upset, and he couldn’t handle anymore disapproval right now…

“I’m sure he’s grateful to have such a good friend.” Monica said warmly, accepting the bucket without even wrinkling her nose. “Would you like this bucket returned?”

“I have another prepared in the occurrence of Prompto being sick again, so that won’t be required. We shall speak later.” It’s a polite dismissal, and Monica says her goodbyes before Ignis closes the door once more, until it’s only him, Prompto, and the cat. He huffs an amused breath upon spotting the feline, but doesn’t shoo it away. “Animals take a liking to you.” The advisor noted, sitting in the lounge chair he had previously been inhabiting. “They must sense something kind in your nature.”

Prompto shifted at the compliment, a sense of guilt washing over him. Kind? How could he be _kind?_ He’d been nothing but a bother since coming to the castle, and he’d selfishly neglected his father in lieu of remaining dumbly oblivious to preserve some childhood innocence fallacy…

He wasn’t kind. He was a coward.

“You and Noctis both have a penchant for self-loathing.” Ignis chided gently. “Stiff upper lip, lad. There is no point dwelling on the past. Look to the future, and to the people who will support and love you.”

Prompto nodded, and was unsurprised to realise he had inadvertently started crying again. He was a mess. A physical _and_ emotional mess. Still, a part of him was logical enough to resonate with what Ignis had just said.

Remaining tethered in the past was toxic.

It was what had made Ardyn so vengeful and resentful, and it was an action that had left Noctis tethered in the citadel like a chained mongrel.

The past was…the past. Moving on was the only appropriate action.

And Prompto would do so, but _in his own way._

He wasn’t the sort of person to abandon those from the past merely for the sake of a future he had yet to see and approve of. He would try harder than that.

Still, he smiled at the advisor. “Thank you, Ignis. Truly. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Ignis returned the smile, albeit somewhat confusedly. “Forgive me, but I thought Noctis-“

“Noctis is…” Prompto squirmed, as he tried to think of an adequate description. “He’s…”

Ignis takes pity on him. “I don’t want to pressure you into labelling your feelings, Prompto.”

Prompto’s smile turned a little dry. “First time for everything, right?”

“I’m aware that perhaps my methods at first bordered on a little…pushy, but-“

Prompto gave a croaky laugh, and took another sip from the cup sitting at his bedside. “I’m just messing with ya, Iggy. You’ve been great. Everyone here has been so nice to me. It’s felt like a dream, to be honest. Nobody wants someone like me around in the real world.”

“They do.” Ignis assured with certainty. “You just haven’t met them until now. You’ll experience the real world soon enough, Prompto. Noctis will be a wonderful king.”

“I don’t doubt it, although I did at first.” Prompto admitted. “I’m…ashamed that I jumped to conclusions before getting to know him. I let Papa manipulate me.”

“We hardly conducted ourselves any better-“

“Please Ignis, let me finish. Will you forgive me for all of the trouble I’ve caused?”

“I can’t speak for everyone else in the citadel, but I don’t think there’s anything to forgive. You’ve brought Noctis so much happiness, Prompto. We think it’s your turn.”

“My turn?” Prompto repeated, befuddled. “What does that-“

“Hush now.” Ignis interjected. “Rest. You need to recuperate properly.” He leaned forward, pulling the covers up to Prompto’s chin, and moving the pillows so that the blond could lay down.

The fussing had Prompto flushing in embarrassment, but he was too wrung-out to even give a token protest. Ignis may not have been Ardyn, but the coddling felt…nice.

The cat hissed when Ignis’s gloved hand ventured too close, taking a vicious swipe with its left paw.

Ignis raised his eyebrows, utterly affronted. “Hideous creature.” He insulted sniffily.

 Prompto laughed. He laughed so hard, that he started feeling sick again.

It was probably a good thing that Ignis had kept an extra bucket close by.

And yeah, Prompto could have spent the day locked in his bathroom, hunched over the toilet with _privacy,_ but…

This was nice. Well, as nice as being ridiculously hangover could be.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis’s ‘rest and respite’ methods must have been certifiably legitimate, because Prompto felt good as new the next day. He woke up a little later than usual, and he was a little unsteady on his feet momentarily, but asides from that, he felt…normal.

Normal. How could he feel normal after that revelation? After hearing The Glacian’s story, he thought he’d never feel normal again. Everything would change, for the worse.

He’d never be happy. He’d never be content. He’d always be sad and confused, and very, very, _very_ alone. Who would want to spend time around someone like him? Why would anyone even _try_ when he’d already (near instantaneously) decided he wasn’t going to cut Ardyn out of his life?

He couldn’t lie. What he’d heard about the man, had turned his stomach. What made it worse, was that everything that had been said made sense. There was nothing ‘Gentiana’ had said that didn’t seem uncharacteristic, if he truly listened.

Ardyn Izunia-

No. That wasn’t his name. **Ardyn Lucis Caelum.**

His papa was to be a _king._ He’d been wise, and benevolent, and _generous._ He’d healed thousands of people, saved their lives, and what had he gotten in return?

In the midst of his drinking, Prompto had felt a myriad of emotions. One of them, had been _anger_. Not because Ardyn had lied (he’d always known the man was hiding something) nor because of Ardyn’s actions (those merely saddened him) but because his papa **_deserved better._**

He understood why the man had behaved the way he had, even if he didn’t approve.

_He would have been so lonely. He spent all of that time by himself…_

And yet such a broken individual had seen fit to raise him…

Ardyn wasn’t a monster, contrary to popular belief.

No, the real monsters were the people who had betrayed and demonised him.

Prompto recalled when Gentiana had finished telling her tale, he had been so _overwhelmed,_ yet anger had struck him fiercely, so although he knew he should have been giving her his thanks and perhaps try and convince her to break the curse, he’d instead cursed at her.

(“Fuck off, _traitor. **You’re**_ the reason all of this is happening! If you hadn’t betrayed him-“)

(“What’s done is done.”) Luna had said, and Prompto had fallen into a seething silence.

Like always, the oracle was right. What was done was done. Now he just had to live with the results, and try to salvage what he could. **_And he wouldn’t give up_**. His father deserved better.

**_Everyone_** had given up on him.

Prompto wouldn’t do the same.

But Gods, was it _weird_ that Ardyn and Noctis were distantly connected like this…

In some strange way, Prompto was a little jealous that Noctis was Ardyn’s descendant. As a child, he’d always wanted to be related to the man biologically. Kids had taunted him for being adopted, and it had gotten to him sometimes.

At the same time, he was glad. Ardyn and Noctis had something in common. _The pressure of ruling._ If Prompto could monopolise on that, perhaps they could get along eventually. Because really, when they stripped away all of the pettiness and past grudges, they must have been similar in _some_ ways.

_Yeah. Just think positive, and be optimistic. **I can do this.** _

Prompto repeats this mental mantra as he goes about the process of preparing himself for the day. He relishes in the healthy sensations of his body, glad to be rid of the splitting headache and nausea from the day previous. Although he could have summoned someone to warm the water for him, he took a cold bath, the temperature thoroughly waking him up.

He was unsurprised to hear a knock on the bathroom door as he was finishing up, and he hastily tied the towel around his waist before calling out “Just a sec!”  When he opened the door, he saw Iris standing there sheepishly. “Don’t worry about it.” He blurted, before she could open her mouth. “I don’t need you to warm water for me every morning. I’ve bathed in cold water for most of my life.”

“If I’d known you would be up so early…” She trailed off, with a sigh. “Ignis will be mad.”

“Then let’s not tell him.” Prompto shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not a hapless kid, y’know. I can handle myself perfectly fine.”

“Like you did when you got wasted the other day?” Iris’s voice is teasing, so Prompto doesn’t take the comment to heart like he might have otherwise.

“I’m sorry for anyone who was subjected to that sight.”

“Don’t be. It was kind of funny, until you started blubbering.”

Prompto groaned in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me anymore.”

Iris giggled, and stood back to allow the blond to re-enter the main part of his quarters. She sat on the edge of the bed as he rifled through his duffle bag, petting the cat that was still slumbering. “Hello, Molly.” She greeted, as the creature purred at the attention. “Monica was looking for you…”

“She snuck in here yesterday.” Prompto explained. “I was too tired to kick her out. That, and I think she’s totes adorable and wanna love her forever and ever.” He grinned at the feline, making kissy faces that had Iris giggling madly.

“You really like animals, don’t you?”

“Yep! I always have. I always wanted a pet as a child, but we moved around too much.” Prompto unabashedly changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater, using the towel to shuck up a pair of boxers whilst Iris was distracted with the cat. The girl had been around so much when he’d been bathing and dressing, that he’d gotten accustomed to her presence.

He took his time with his styling and grooming, lacing up a pair of his boots and standing when he was ready. Once again, Iris helped lead him downstairs, engaging him in pointless conversation as they went. Prompto participated, trying to keep himself distracted. Truthfully, he was a little nervous to see everyone again, considering his conduct the last couple of days…

He was supposed to be a guest, and he’d been a terribly rude one.

He’d have to find a way to make it up to everyone, particularly Ignis and Lunafreya, who had been forced to look out for him during his alcohol rampage and subsequent recovery.

Maybe he could pick them some flowers? No, too childish…

He couldn’t cook anything, either. That was against the rules. Perhaps he could take a nice photograph for them, and frame it after he had broken the curse…

The curse. If only The Glacian had given him some insight into _that._ He felt idiotic for not even thinking about asking when he had the chance.

_Way to miss out on the golden opportunity, dumbass._

Before Prompto could inwardly insult himself further, they had arrived at the kitchen. Conversation had tapered off at some point, but thankfully Iris didn’t seem offended with his lack of input. If anything, she was suddenly appearing rather cheerful.

Half-heartedly, Prompto looked about to see the source of her joy. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was a delicious spread of food on the table, as normal, and some of the staff were situated throughout the room, either eating, or performing menial chores.

He was glad to note that Ravus was absent, and his eyes widened when he spotted Noctis at the head of the table, picking at a piece of toast half-heartedly. It hadn’t occurred to him how Noctis would react about Ardyn’s behaviour. He’d been so focused on himself, that he had neglected to contemplate the consequences-

Oh shit. What if Noctis went after Ardyn? The prince had been antagonistic about Ardyn in the past, and Prompto’s state would just be another excuse to act on those old feelings of hate. He didn’t want to be an excuse, he didn’t want to be the reason this citadel could be torn apart-

When Noctis glances up and catches his eye, Prompto’s frantic thoughts still. His mind goes blank, and all he can focus on is the way the light catches Noctis’s incredibly blue eyes, and how sleek and smooth that raven hair looks. He wants to thread his fingers through it, he wants to press his lips against the prince’s warm, slightly chapped ones-

He wants to **_stop thinking about jumping the freaking Lucian heir in his own kitchen_** before he gets hard and humiliates himself even further. He’d already been behaving ridiculous, so that would just be the icing on the top of a really shitty cake.

Noctis’s irritatingly kissable lips move, and Prompto has to pinch himself covertly to start paying attention to what he is actually saying.

When did he get so pathetic?

“-fast with me.” He’s finishing a sentence, and peering at Prompto expectantly.

Uh-oh. He’s expecting a response. Prompto doesn’t want to offend him by admitting he hadn’t been purposely inattentive, but he doesn’t exactly want to explain himself either, not with so many people lingering in the kitchen. There may have been a slight din, but Prompto had the feeling most of the people here were gossipy. It only made sense, considering they were likely starved for entertainment after being cooped up in the castle for so long…

Thankfully, Iris is there to save the day. Prompto thinks she deserves a medal, or at least a promotion from the duties she is currently performing. She should be doing something more important than babysitting a hapless guest…

Not that Prompto isn’t appreciative, but he feels guilty for occupying so much of her time.

“Aw, he wants to eat breakfast with you, Prompto! So adorable.”

The re-direction works like a charm. Noctis is flushing crimson, his worry at Prompto’s distraction momentarily subverted by his own embarrassment.

And Prompto now knows what Noctis had been saying. He sends Iris a grateful look, and she gives him a wink, before spinning around to join Monica at the counter. The woman is making some sort of strange concoction, likely to feed her felines…

Prompto sits at Noctis’s left. The right side is set as well, but he feels awkward occupying that space. He feels like it’s reserved, somehow. For a more important person.

The prince isn’t one for decorum, so he doesn’t notice. His flawless skin is returning from its blotchy state, and he musters up the nerve to address Prompto again. “Hey,” His voice is a little gravelly. “How are you, dude?”

_Determined. Scared. Self-conscious and wanting a hug._

“Awesome, man! How are you?”

Prompto wants to open up, but he’s spent so long without anyone but Ardyn that it feels almost taboo. He knows, logically, he shouldn’t feel that way, but it’s a habit he’s still trying to shake. It doesn’t help matters that he is afraid Noctis is going to turn on him…

It wouldn’t be a shock. Prompto still wants to help his adoptive father, and he’s sure many people would find that concept abhorrent and disappointing. Noctis has every right to feel the same, considering the extent of damage Ardyn had done to him and his family. Not everybody could be as understanding as Luna, and since nobody else has ever witnessed Ardyn’s redeeming qualities…

Prompto has his work cut out for him. It’s a depressing thought, and he almost excuses himself to return to bed. He knows it would be anti-productive in the long-run, but short-term, it would be satisfying. Avoidance and procrastination were such deadly companions…

Noctis does appear disappointed, and it makes Prompto’s chest feel tight. However, the prince doesn’t push matters. He’s respectful, even as his eyes linger on Prompto’s bruised cheek. “I’ve been better.” He shrugged.

Prompto deflated.

_Here we go. He’s going to tell me how disappointed he is-_

“Gladio insisted on waking me up at the ass crack of dawn this morning, since I’m going to be missing my usual training time today. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m totally not a morning person. The sunrise and I, we don’t get along.”

Prompto feels a rush of relief and gratefulness, and returns Noctis’s smile tentatively. “More of a night owl? That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“And you? I can kind of imagine you frolicking through a meadow at five AM, singing whilst birds flutter around chirping. You always seem so bright, I’m a little jealous…”

“You? Jealous of me? Perish the thought. Hate to disappoint you though, but I spend my five AM wake ups taking photographs of the sunrise. It’s amazing how it always looks different each time through the lens. I never get the exact same shot.”

“Do you find that frustrating?”

“Sometimes, when I screw up and want to recapture the moment and can’t. Most of the time though, I find it exciting to work in such different and dynamic environments. I love experimenting with my filters as well, and there’s usually never many people around to interrupt the moment, since most people-“

“Normal, _sane_ people.”

Prompto pokes out his tongue playfully in retaliation for the comment, before continuing. “-are still asleep at that time. It’s solitary, and I almost feel the sun _is mine_ , in some weird, nonsensical way. It’s almost like a bonding experience.” Suddenly, Prompto becomes aware of how much he is rambling, and how quiet the room has become. Nobody asides from Noctis is looking at him, but he gets the impression they have been listening raptly.

Great. There goes his decision to stay private. Now he was probably going to be made fun of-

“Immersing yourself in nature sometimes has that effect.” Noctis is nodding, like he relates.

_Holy Ifrit, somebody relates to what I’m saying. Someone **understands.**_

To be understood.

There’s something so much more intimate about that. Even more intimate than kissing and fondling…

And somehow, _miraculously_ , just as arousing.

“When I’m fishing, I feel like the water belongs to me. That the fish and creatures swimming in it…they are a part of me as well. But not in a cohesive, ‘the fish are communicating with me’, sort of way, just this feeling of _belonging_. Of being in the right place for yourself personally…”

And Prompto understands, too. And he emphasises, and he wants to watch Noctis fish, despite always finding the hobby boring. He wants to see peace on his face, wants to see all of his royal duties wash away and be replaced by the singular desire to feel surrounded by nature. He wants Noctis to _yearn_ for his presence, to want to let him in…

Prompto would be happy to let Noctis join him in his early morning photography, if the prince ever woke up early enough. Still, there are other opportunities. When the curse breaks, perhaps they can experience them together. Surely the prince would have time, every now and again…

“Sorry for rambling. I bet I sound weird…”

_He’s as self-conscious as me. It’s **attractive.**_

Prompto enjoyed suave Noctis, but he also liked the sincere version of the prince, the version where he had flaws and liked Prompto enough to share them. There’s kinship, as well as understanding and belonging. So many emotions.

It isn’t love, at least not the pure, unclenching kind that Prompto has seen in cheesy movies and read about online. But it is something in the middle, something above a petty-crush and adorable puppy-love…

Falling in love in such a short time span? Not feasible. Prompto was more of the slow-burn type. He didn’t want to get hurt, and if that meant denying himself a little, than he was willing to do that.

When he did fall completely in love, he wanted it to be real.

For keeps.

No takesies-backsies.

_‘The forever and ever’_ kind of deal.

He gets the feeling Noctis is the same. It only makes sense, considering his past experiences with other men and women. It’s comforting.

Something occurs to Prompto. Noctis had said something a little amiss in their earlier conversation…

Gladio seemed the sort to be really strict about training regiments. He wouldn’t alter Noctis’s schedule without good reason. So what was the reason?

“Why aren’t you training with Gladio at the same time today? Did something happen?”

Noctis frowns, and Prompto inwardly curses himself.

_Stupid, awkward moron. I just left him hanging…_

“You don’t sound weird, FYI.” He added hurriedly, hoping he didn’t sound insincere. “I get what you’re saying completely. I just thought it was strange Gladio was changing your training times…”

“About that.” Noctis cleared his throat. Once, twice. He looked down at his breakfast plate, his dark hair obscuring the top half of his face. It’s a loss that strikes Prompto. The prince is too gorgeous to be hiding like that…

Whatever he’s about to say, it’s clear he needs a little encouragement to spit it out. Prompto reaches out and touches his hand, grazing his clenched knuckles soothingly. He doesn’t say a word, knowing that could throw the prince off more.

His action is rewarded with Noctis taking a deep breath, and precisely enunciating a sentence he was likely tempted to blurt out in one long, indecipherable blur. “I was wondering if you’d like to see the chocobos with me today.”

Prompto blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected that.

Prompto’s lack of reply made Noctis turn red again, and he mumbled self-consciously “I mean, I remember you said you love those dumb birds, so-“

“Hey, there’s no need to insult those feathery angels.”

“What about leathery angels? Where?” Aranea cut into the conversation curiously. Her eyes were alight, a sultry smile on her full lips. “Please tell me there are some bad-ass leather bitches around?”

“Okay, _what the actual hell?”_ Noctis addressed Aranea, baffled.

“What?” Aranea huffed. “I’ve been stuck in this citadel with the same people for _way_ too fucking long. Do you want me to resort to sleeping with Libertus?”

Somewhere near the sinks, Prompto heard an insulted “Hey!”

“I wasn’t aware you were inclined that way.”

“Because you’re self-obsessed, pretty boy. I don’t discriminate when it comes to gender.”

“He said ‘ _feathery angels’_. _Feathery_.”

“We’re talking about chocobos.” Prompto piped helpfully.

Aranea squinted at him closely. “Am I missing something here?”

“I just _really_ love chocobos.”

“How much exactly?”

Prompto laughed awkwardly. “I guess that sounded wrong…”

“Dude, there is _no_ wrong way to love a chocobo.” Noctis comforted. He shot Aranea a small glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be our watchwoman? Aren’t there daemons and intruders to clear out?”

“No one’s came through since goldilocks here. The daemons though…they’ve been a little nastier. It seems they’re unrested. Something we can discuss later, I’m sure. Judging by your not-so-subtle hinting, you want some alone time with your little crush.” The woman sent Prompto a small wink. “I’ll be attending to my duties after I eat breakfast, if that pleases you, sire.” She sent Noctis a sarcastic curtsy, and swaggered off.

Noctis huffed, and buried his face in his hands.

Prompto felt a twinge of sympathy. It must have been hard, trying to have a private conversation with so many eyes and ears lingering about. The prince was rather brave. Prompto would have struggled to be bold enough to put himself out there. “I’d love to spend the day with you, Noct.” He said genuinely. “But are you sure you want to waste your time with me? I’m sure you’ve got other more important stuff to do…”

“No way.” Noctis hastily tried to quash Prompto’s doubts. “I don’t have anything pressing to attend to today. The only stuff I want to do is you-“ The prince paused, realising the suggestiveness of his remark. He moaned again, and Prompto couldn’t hold back from laughing. The prince was just as new to this as him. The lack of experience made him feel less foolish in these kinds of interactions. “That came out wrong. I don’t want to do you _like that._ ” Prompto raised his eyebrows. “I mean, at least not _yet._ _Ugh_ , I’m going to stop talking now.” Noctis stood from his chair, pushing it under the table swiftly. “I’ll meet you outside later? Someone can escort you after you’ve changed into more…fitting attire. It’ll be cold outside.”

“Can I eat breakfast first?” Prompto questioned playfully. “Or are you ordering me to get ready now? I have to warn you, I get a little queasy sometimes if I don’t eat breakfast.”

(“As cliché as it sounds, breakfast truly _is_ the most important meal of the day. Your brain relies on the nutrients to-”)

Prompto shook his head, trying to shake off Ardyn’s intrusive monologue.

“Take your time.” Noctis grinned. “I wouldn’t want you puking up your guts again so soon…”

Prompto’s cheeks turned a vivid pink at the reminder of his drunken exploits, and he shot the prince a rather undignified pout. “Too soon, buddy. Too soon.”

“It’s never too soon to tease you, Prompto. You make the cutest faces.”

“Don’t make me initiate another food fight.” Prompto warned, jokingly. “We’ve had enough of those already.”

“I’ll get out of your way, then. See you soon?”

“See you soon.” Prompto watched as the prince slumped off, fisting his eyes.

_He must be tired. He doesn’t usually wake up this early._

Prompto was flattered by the effort, and pleased that the prince had withheld from mentioning what had happened between him and Ardyn. It was a promising development.

With his spirits considerably lifted, he tucked into a small stack of pancakes. It was drizzled with honey, and Prompto wondered, if the date went well…

_Will Noctis taste it later?_

**A guy could dream.**

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOO much cheesiness. 
> 
> The date? It's definitely happening next chapter. I've started writing it already. 
> 
> As far as this story is concerned, I've finally decided on a concrete ending, so I should (hopefully) start updating quicker again. 
> 
> As always, THANK YOU to everyone who has (still) been reading and reviewing. If it wasn't for your reminders that this story still existed, I might have forgotten about it :)
> 
> (Please) Tell me what you think if you would like, no pressure though. 
> 
> I hope you are all having a good year so far :D


	18. I can feel a change in me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto and Noctis finally get to go on their first proper date, and learn more about one another in the process. 
> 
> OR
> 
> Prompto enthuses over chocobos and Noctis tries not to die from his adorableness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness on this chapter. It seems like a recurring issue lately.
> 
> To be honest writing this was like pulling teeth, but I managed to get it done. 
> 
> I hope reading this isn't like pulling teeth :)

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Warmly clothed and with a comfortably full stomach, Prompto meets Noctis an hour or so later at a back entrance, dressed suitably. He’s got his camera bag slung over his shoulder, unwilling to miss an opportunity to take some photographs of the citadel’s grounds.

That, and he got a little snap happy when it came to chocobos. He even had an extra memory card in case he filled the one he had inside the camera already.

Noctis is waiting, a sturdy backpack resting on his shoulders. When Prompto arrives, he offers a hand somewhat hesitantly.

Without a second thought, Prompto takes it. He can feel the warmth of Noctis’s hand through their joined gloves, and he swings their hands playfully with a smile. “I’m ready for my adventure.” He informed the prince brightly.

Noctis raised an aristocratic eyebrow. “Adventure?” He mimicked.

Prompto nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! You’re taking me on an adventure! I’m excited.”

_It’ll be nice to be distracted for a while._

“That isn’t what I’d call it.” Noctis said.

“What _would_ you call it then?”

“A date.”

“I gotta admit, I like the sound of that better.”

Noctis smirked. “I thought you might. Come on, you dork. We’re wasting daylight.”

Prompto was tempted to comment on Noctis’s assertiveness, but could only laugh madly when the prince, acting so cool only a moment ago, slid over on a small patch of melting ice. He was co-ordinated enough to steady himself before he smacked onto the ground, but the sight was _hilarious._

And was it just Prompto, or was some of the ice in Insomnia beginning to thaw?

Before he could pursue the thought further, he was getting a face full of mushy snow. “Seriously? _Again_?”

Their conversation dissolved into another small snowball fight, before they resumed their trek to the chocobo stables, both somewhat breathless with laughter. The path was well-worn, and Prompto could see footprints still freshly imprinted on the damp earth.

“Nyx enjoys tending to them.” Noctis said, tracing Prompto’s eyes. “Although Iris usually harvests the greens. The chocobos are one of the only constants we have here. They’re hardy, and can handle the dips in temperature pretty well. We’ve lost some to old age over the years, but the breeding program has gone well…”

It must have been sad, seeing the chocobos grow old, when Noctis remained the same.

But now wasn’t the time for Prompto to broach that subject. They were on a date, and he wanted to enjoy himself. He’d spent too much time consumed in darker topics over the last few days, and he needed to give himself (and his brain) a break. “I’ve only ridden a chocobo twice.” He admitted, when Noctis appeared reflective.

_A date is a two-way street. If he’s trying to make me happy, and impress me, then I have to do the same._

It wasn’t even just obligation. Prompto _wanted_ Noctis to be happy. Fiercely.

“Really?” Noctis is surprised. “But you said you and…” He trailed off, awkwardly.

“ _Ardyn_.” Prompto recited. It was a little hard to say the name, but he managed. “You can say the name, Noct. He’s not the bogeyman. He won’t pop out and kill you.”

Silence, and Prompto immediately cringed. That was not the right analogy to use. _Why oh why_ did he have to be so awkward and inarticulate and- “Or maybe after what I’ve heard,” Prompto seems to have no control over his tongue. “-it’s a legitimate fear that he _will_.”

Great. Now _he_ was being depressingly reflective.

_What a pair we make._

Noctis wisely made the decision to leave that line of conversation, continuing where he left off previously. “You said you and… _Ardyn_ moved around a lot. Didn’t you ride chocobos in your travels?”

“Chocobos always hated Papa.” Prompto confessed, lapsing into the familiar title more out of habit than anything else. Not that he intended to disregard it. Despite his insurmountable faults, Ardyn had always been a competent adoptive father, and Prompto couldn’t slight him. “I used to think it was funny as a kid. He’d try to stroke their beaks and they’d squawk, and ruffle their feathers. One even bit him once, took a whole chunk of skin off his thumb. He didn’t even grimace. He just laughed.”

“That must have been a little traumatising. Where you scared of them after that?”

Prompto laughed. “Dude, _no_. Me, scared of chocobos? I love them! I just thought they hated him because they could sense what a smart-ass he was.”

“When did you ride the chocobos, then? If Ardyn couldn’t go near them…”

Prompto took a moment to take a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. Despite the steep uphill climb they were undergoing, Noctis didn’t seem out of breath in the slightest. Perhaps Gladio made him run the length during their training… “Once when I was a child, there was a carnival. I can’t remember where. They were giving assisted chocobo rides to little kids, and I begged him to let me try it. He was vehemently against it, at first,” Prompto couldn’t help but smile as he remembered Ardyn’s aghast expression “but I whined for hours, and he eventually gave in. He had to watch from a distance, because the bird reared up whenever he got close. I can still remember how it smelled…”

“There’s no mistaking that potent chocobo odour. What about the second time?”

“My sixteenth birthday. He finally deemed me ‘ _adult enough’_ to ride on my own. So _embarrassingly_ overprotective. I’ve never seen Whiz laugh so hard…”

“Whiz?” Noctis repeated, with wide-eyes. “Is he still alive?”

“Yep. You know him as well?”

_First Dino, then Sania, now Whiz..._

“He was one of the people who gave us advice on how to rear our domestic chocobos. He inspected our stables before we even started breeding. He knew loads about the birds…”

Prompto can see the relief in the prince’s eyes. Noctis is glad someone else he knows is still out there, living their life. Prompto realises how hard it must have been, to be stuck inside the citadel, unable to know if your friends were healthy, let alone _alive._ The prince’s citizens, disconnected from him…

“Does he still live at the outpost?” There’s hope there. Noctis doesn’t want anything to change…

_When I break the curse, he’s going to have a hard time._

Lives, and circumstances, inevitably change, and it can be hard to accept that. Harder when you’ve been trapped in a citadel, unable to slowly adjust or fully mourn any losses…

Uncertainty. **_Horrible._**

Prompto feels almost blessed to answer, glad to tell Noctis something he clearly wants to hear. He dreads the day where he may be forced to do the opposite.  “Yeah. He’s still at that outpost. Sometimes he brings a few birds to festivals, but not that often.”

Noctis heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”

Prompto’s heart clenched. “Hey, when this is all over, I’ll take you back there. I don’t know how much has changed since you’ve last visited, but it’s really beautiful. I’d ride chocobos there all the time if I had enough gil. Most of what I save usually goes to car rentals…”

Noctis squeezed his hand, and Prompto winced when his bones cracked at the pressure. “Promise?” He said, furtively. “Promise we’ll go together?”

_It really means a lot to him._

“Sure.” Prompto promised, pleased with the mere prospect. He’d always wanted to explore the region with a friend before. “You take a day off from your royal duties, and we can drive there in one of your fancy cars.”

“It’s a date.”

Prompto smirked. “Another one? This one isn’t even finished yet. Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?”

“ _You_ were the one propositioning _me_.” Noctis pointed out, matching the smirk. “But,” He went on, sobering up somewhat. “If the idea makes you uncomfortable, we can just go as friends. I never want to pressure you, Prompto.”

It was a relief to hear this. Prompto had felt pressured the moment he’d discovered life in the citadel. Pressure to defend Ardyn, pressure to fall in love with Noctis, and pressure to find a way to break the curse. It was heart-warming to know the prince didn’t want to contribute to that anymore.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Noctis said, when Prompto merely blinked at him. “We go at your pace.”

“ _Our_ pace.” Prompto corrected. “You’re part of… _this_ as well.” Categorising their interactions as a ‘relationship’ right now seemed a little premature. He’d hold back on giving it a title until he was _absolutely_ certain.

“We’re here.” Noctis announced, as they finally reached the top of the peak.

Prompto perked up, bouncing on the balls of his feet and dragging Noctis forward eagerly. The stables were well-fortified, sturdy, and maintained immaculately. Asides from needing a fresh lick of paint, they were nearly up to the perfect standard of Whiz’s. Prompto could tell the man himself had helped design them. They were nearly exactly similar…

He couldn’t stop himself from giving a high-pitched squealing noise when he saw the birds peeking out from the fixture, ‘ _kwehing_ ’ softly as they realised they had company.

“Are…you alright?” Noctis questioned, amusement thick in his voice.

“Yeah.” Prompto replied, clutching his heart with his free hand. “I’m just dying from their adorableness.”

Noctis snorted. “Just let me know if you go into cardiac arrest, okay?” Despite his sarcasm, the prince had blushed over the sound. The chocobos had nothing on Prompto. He was the cutest thing Noctis had ever seen. In fact, he almost resembled the birds in a few ways. His hair-

“Are they shy?” Prompto had cocked his head curiously. “They aren’t coming into the pen.” He indicated to the circular space that connected to the stables. “Don’t they like to peck at the grass?”

Noctis appeared a little guilty here. “We have to lock them up at night in the stables. They’re too far away from the citadel to rescue if a predator manages to get into their pen, and since we have no electricity, there’s no light or noises to deter threats. Some of the staff volunteer to watch them at night, but it’s too dangerous. The stables are secure enough to protect them. Not one creature has managed to get inside yet…”

Prompto felt somewhat saddened at the explanation, but still understood. Noctis was only choosing the most logical path of action, and Whiz’s outpost was always too populated for predators to venture close. It was one of the reasons Whiz was always asking the hunters to rescue wild birds for him. And it wasn’t as if the birds looked miserable…

From what Prompto could see, they were rested, in good-spirits, and well-fed. They also seemed to be wearing some sort of cloth protection around their bodies-

“Ever since Insomnia practically froze, we wanted to take precautions with the climate.” Noctis explained, following Prompto’s eyes to the violet fabric. “If we released them, they’d only be eaten by daemons. They wouldn’t make it out of Insomnia alive. Luna came up with the idea to create coats for them, and she and Iris sewed a whole bunch to keep them warm at night. We take them off during the day so they can groom their feathers…”

“That’s really considerate of you all.”

“We aren’t negligent, Prom. We take responsibility for what we own.” Noctis strode closer, feet crunching on the fresh grass. He stuck a hand through the top of the stable, and a chocobo rubbed against his arm affectionately, chirping contently at the attention.

A little nervously, Prompto followed suit, choosing a chocobo directly to the left. Its feathers were a dark ebony, and it leaned into his touch immediately.

“Wow.” Noctis breathed, a little miffed. “She’s usually really moody. I can’t get near her on the best of days. You must have a real rapport with animals.”

Prompto brightened up at the compliment. “I always spent more time with creatures than with actual people. Wildlife photographer, remember?” He laughed when the bird reached out her beak, nipping at his blond locks fondly. “Ha! She’s grooming me!”

“Maybe she thinks you’re her chick.” Noctis teased, eyes glinting mischievously. “Your hair _does_ look like a chocobo butt, after all.”

Prompto was too ecstatic to take offense, and merely poked his tongue out, wrapping his arms around the female chocobo’s neck, and burying his face in her soft, downy feathers. He inhaled the familiar scent, and felt a deep calm wash over him. He’d always found animals to be incredibly soothing, it was one of the reasons why he’d always wanted a pet.

That, and crippling loneliness because he had no friends.

_This feels like a dream come true. Not only do I have some friends, but I also get to be with these amazing chocobos. How have I become so fortunate?_

He almost felt a little teary, mortifyingly enough. How often had he imagined having a trip like this with a friend as a child? It was a recurring fantasy of his, and here it was, being acted out in real life…

Despite himself, he lets out a small sniffle, and the prince furrows his brow in concern. “Prompto, are you alright?”

Prompto nodded in assurance, his head still buried. “I’m fine, dude.” He said, pulling back to speak. He may have loved the sensation of the feathers on his skin, but he didn’t want them inside his mouth. He grinned at Noctis, eyes a little watery.

Noctis had the grace to ignore this, and busied himself with lowering his backpack to the side of the stables. He raised a hand, and a key shimmered into existence in his palm.

_From the armiger._

Prompto had learned about it. It seemed unfairly convenient.

_I wish I had one. It would make carrying around camera gear and equipment much easier. Maybe I can borrow it sometime. Gladio and Ignis do, after all._

Noctis fitted the key into a series of solid locks, each of them clicking apart immediately. The birds fluffed their wings in excitement, clearly eager to run into their pen and stretch their bones. One even trod in its water trough in its excitement, water splashing onto its coat.

Upon opening the final lock, all of the doors to the stable swung open on smooth hinges, the chocobos rushing into the pen excitably. Prompto released the one he had been petting, and she nuzzled his head one last time before joining the others.

“Wanna help me take off their coats?” Noctis asked. “They won’t bite, or anything. They’re really tame.”

“Sure!” Prompto agreed, eager to expel some of the excitement and energy he was feeling. “Let’s do it!”

“Never seen someone so excited to tend to chocobos before.” Noctis chuckled. 

“Oh.” Prompto deflated somewhat, realising how foolishly over-eager he must have been appearing. He must seem like such a _commoner._ “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, man. I think it’s endearing.” Noctis dispelled Prompto’s doubts, clambering into the pen and approaching one of the chocobos. It was a creamy white colour, and it paid him no mind as he easily relieved it off its warm protection. He carefully folded the coat, and put it aside. “See how it’s done?”

Prompto nodded, and slid underneath the wooden fixtures, selecting a golden coloured bird and treading up to it slowly. Knowing he was unfamiliar to the creature, he extended a hand, letting the chocobo grow comfortable with his presence before attempting to remove the coat. When she ducked back down to graze at the greenery, he repeated Noctis’s motions, removing the coat with no difficulty and putting it atop the other neatly.

Together, the pair finished the task quickly, regarding the small group with satisfaction. They were extending their wings fully now, and picking out any twigs or pieces of dirt from their feathers. They seemed perfectly happy to Prompto. No suffering. This was the way of life they had been raised with.

There was a small shed behind the stables, filled with harvested greens. Noctis showed Prompto how to replenish their feed buckets, and fill up their troughs with fresh water.

Noctis was admittedly smitten when the blond performed the chores without a hint of complaint, so unlike many of the others who had come before him. He didn’t find menial chores disgusting, nor did he look down upon Noctis for willingly performing them. A lot of people thought such work was below his royal stature, and that he shouldn’t lower himself to the position of a stable-hand.

Noctis didn’t care. He liked spending time with the chocobos, and he wasn’t about to change that. He was overjoyed he’d finally found a potential partner who didn’t scorn him for it.

“Are we gonna clean out the stables?” Prompto questioned, once they were finished. He’d already picked up a rake, and was brandishing it keenly.

Noctis shook his head. “Not today. That takes a while, and we want to go riding.”

“Shouldn’t we let them graze a little longer before locking them away?”

“Libertus will be here soon. It’s his turn to muck out the stables today. He’ll watch them while we’re gone. Until then, I’m going to show you how to saddle a chocobo yourself, and how to use the reins. It’s a little trickier than you first assume…”

Prompto recalled the ease in which he had straddled the chocobo on his sixteenth birthday, and how intrinsic it had been to ride atop it around the post (under the watchful eye of Ardyn, of course)

Whiz had called him ‘ **a natural’** , and said he didn’t need further instruction. He’d been taken-aback, saying that most ‘ _newcomers displayed more nervousness’_.

But not Prompto, he’d been daydreaming about riding one for so long that any nerves were overwhelmed by desperation to _finally_ try it out.

_Maybe those chocobo were different. They were rented out all of the time. It may be a little harder with one of these birds. And I’m an inexperienced and unfamiliar rider…_

It was best to express caution.

_Papa will have a fit if I get tossed and break an ankle-_

**_No._ **

_Today **isn’t** about him. It’s about me, and Noct. My first ever **real** date. _

Prompto rushed to Noctis’s side, where the prince was browsing some stored saddles and saddle pads. He talked Prompto through the process of choosing the right one, and Prompto listened attentively, storing all of the information in his brain. Noctis seemed pleased with his focus, a small grin on his face.

It was nice to be teaching someone something. He felt _masculine_ , and capable. What Gladio would call ‘ _a real man’_ , and what Ignis would call ‘ _arrogance’,_ with dripping disdain.

Only...

 

 

* * *

 

“Done!” Prompto declared, perched atop his chocobo in a satisfied manner. He was holding the reins with a relaxed grip, and stroking the bird’s head thankfully. He’d selected the same one he’d been petting earlier, and she’d been completely calm and obedient as he saddled and haltered her. Even now, she stood still and expectant, enjoying the attention the blond was lavishing her with, making adoring ‘ _kwehs_ ’ whenever he rubbed a certain spot.

Noctis, who had still been adjusting the back cinch, gawked at him in shock. The prince had expected to finish his saddling and then assist a hapless Prompto (preferably with the blond swooning over how amazing and manly he was) before helping him mount the chocobo like the prince he was _supposed to be._

Yet…

There Prompto sat, not a care in the world, confident and natural, whilst Noctis still battled with the cinch.

He looked so proud of himself as well, and not even in a _smug_ way. It was completely wholesome (and unfairly sweet)

So despite feeling a little disappointed at his lost opportunity to ‘ _look cool’_ , Noctis praised him. “Wow. You’re a natural.”

Prompto flushed at the compliment. “I’ve just watched people ride a lot. Papa used to take me to the chocobo races when I was a kid, so I learned through spectating.”

“ _Ardyn_ likes chocobo racing?” Noctis was dubious.

“He likes _betting_ on the chocobo racing.” Prompto amended. “He calls it ‘ _recreational gambling_ ’, but he’s a _total_ punter. He bets big, and takes large risks, but it always seems to pay-off. A lot of places have banned him for cheating, not that they can ever prove he did anything wrong…” He feels humoured by the memories of his father being chased out of venues, Prompto atop his shoulders, as the man hastily collected his winnings and bolted.

“It sounds unsafe for a kid.”

“He only ever did it when we needed the gil.” Prompto explained, gently. “He’s a great artist, but being associated with Niflheim doesn’t really bring much business. Sometimes we got chased out of fairs and festivals, as well.”

Noctis winced. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Prompto. When I am King, I’ll make sure no kid is discriminated against like that.”

It’s almost an unrealistic statement, but Prompto doesn’t fault him for his optimism. It was nice to see Noctis feeling confident in his ruling capabilities.

“I look forward to your ascension then _, King_.”

Noctis shivered at the way Prompto had said the title, and tried to hide how flustered he was by mounting his chocobo. However, in his haste to join Prompto, his foot slipped on the stirrup, and instead of swinging over to the other side, he lost his balance and fell to the ground in a heap.

“Noct!” Prompto cried, immediately concerned. He made to dismount to help the prince stand, but Noctis held a hand up haltingly.

“I’m fine.” He wheezed, a little winded. “The grass broke my fall.” Grimacing slightly, he got to his feet, brushing down his now grass-stained clothes, and avoiding Prompto’s stare.

What was it about Prompto that caused him to be so _clumsy and awkward?_ How was he going to woo the blond if he kept making mistakes?

Even now, Prompto was squinting at him. “Noct, when’s the last time you rode a chocobo?”

Noctis’s ears burned, as he offered the honest answer. “Not even a month ago.”

“Do Gladio or Ignis usually ride with you?”

“What!” Noctis near-yelled, appalled at the very idea. “No! I’ve always ridden by myself!”

“Always?” Prompto was sceptical.

“Well, when I was little I rode with my dad a few times…” Noctis elaborated, grudgingly. “But that’s it. I don’t usually fall...”

“Are you hurt? If you are, we can just hang out here for the day. I can see Libertus coming over the hill-“

“No!” Noctis objected immediately. “I’m fine! **_We’re going_** riding.” Before Prompto had the chance to protest, he swung his foot back into the stirrup, this time succeeding in mounting his chocobo smoothly. He urged the bird forward with a small click of his tongue, and gently tugged the reins to halt next to Prompto’s side.

Prompto was glad to note that their chocobos were around the same size. It would have been difficult to converse if there was a major height difference between their birds.

“You ready?”

Prompto nodded in affirmation, squirming slightly in the saddle when he realised how handsome Noctis looked, the peeking sun casting a golden sheen across the other male’s face. He looked incredibly… _princely._

Unattainable.

Like Noctis should be with a pretty, refined girl, and not… ** _him._**

But then he remembered a few moments ago, when Noctis was laying on the grass in a pile of uncoordinated limbs and mortification…

And Prompto didn’t feel so misplaced anymore.

_I need to be more confident. I’m not…lacking, right?_

Pushing aside his lingering insecurities, Prompto touched his boots to the side of the chocobo gently. The bird trotted off immediately, slightly more enthusiastic than Noctis’s steed.

“She isn’t used to being ridden.” Noctis explained, matching his pace. “She doesn’t usually let anyone saddle her. You’re special.”

Blushing, Prompto looked away from the prince, focusing on the expanse of land before him. It was rich, and lush, green grass and flowering plants peeking out from melting ice.

“It’s the most beautiful I’ve seen it in years.” Noctis breathed, in awe. “Usually everything is either frozen, or dead. It was hard enough even growing greens for the chocobos…”

For a moment, Prompto remained quiet, the pair admiring the scenic view before them. He even managed to pull out his camera, taking a few shots whilst the prince closed his eyes, seemingly imprinting the view into his memory. If he was annoyed by the snapping, he didn’t complain. When he opened them again, he was a little sheepish to realise Prompto had started taking pictures of _him_ as well.

“Oh.” Prompto uttered, in realisation. “Sorry, I should have asked…”

“No. It’s fine. Take as many as you like.”

Prompto beamed. “Awesome! We are gonna take _so_ many selfies together.”

“Let’s just do some riding first.” Noctis said wryly. “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready!”

“Okay, nerd. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

“Is that a challenge? Mr I-can’t-even-mount-a-chocobo _?”_

“You are _never_ telling anyone about that.”

“And you are _never_ living that down.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you sure you aren’t secretly a chocobo racer?” Noctis puffed, as he helped Prompto spread the rug he had packed onto the ground. The pair had been exploring the grounds for a few hours, but had stopped to eat lunch at a nice, secluded spot, with a mostly-unfrozen pond nearby, for the chocobos to quench their thirst.

They could now see the ruins of Insomnia in the distance, a haunting but achingly nostalgic spectacle for the prince, and a curious one for Prompto. The blond had been taking photographs ever since they had set off, and was glad to have packed the extra memory card. He’d already filled his first one with silly selfies with Noctis, his favourite being the one of him beating Noctis in the race they had specified. The shocked look on the prince’s face had been enough to send Prompto into hysterics. He’d promised to frame it, much to Noctis’s dismay.

“Nope.” Prompto chirped, accepting the plates Noctis then handed him. He’d asked why the prince wasn’t storing the backpack in his ‘ _secret magic place’_ (Noctis had told him **_very_** sternly never to call the armiger that again) but Noctis had told him he didn’t want to make it too cramped, and that utilising it for every little thing was just plain _lazy._

Also, Ignis didn’t trust him not to lose the backpack in there, apparently, and the adviser was rather protective of the food he prepared. He would be furious if Noctis misplaced it.

“Can you believe Iggy wanted me to bring the ‘ _fine china’_?” Noctis attempted to replicate Ignis’s accent, unsuccessfully. “They would have been broken the moment we started racing. He would have been majorly pissed off…”

Prompto shuddered. “He’s scary when he’s mad…”

“You should see when he’s angry with Gladio. It’s hilarious.” Noctis carefully situated the plastic containers Ignis had packed, trying to make the atmosphere as romantic as possible. He’d intended for their chocobo ride to be slow and romantic, but the race had been fun, despite their date de-railing into friendly competition…

“Dude, that food, looks _amazing._ ” Prompto cheered, eyes wide as he regarded the decadent selection. “I’ve never eaten such delicious food until I came here…”

“I’m sure Iggy and the staff would be tickled pink to hear that.” Noctis curled his nose when he noticed the advisor had packed vegetables, pushing the container in Prompto’s direction. “Seriously?” He sighed, rolling his eyes when he pulled out the bottle of wine Ignis had also tucked into the backpack. “It’s a miracle this hasn’t shattered…”

“Is that a joke?” Prompto said, face turning pallid. “I am _never_ drinking alcohol again.”

“Considering how much Iggy said you threw up the other day, I can understand why.” Noctis put the bottle aside, not intending on opening it. He wanted his date to be a _sober_ affair. There was plenty of time for wine and champagne that evening, if Prompto _wanted_ to partake in it. He wasn’t going to force the blond to guzzle alcohol.  

The pair were quiet for a moment as they started serving themselves, enjoying the exquisite taste of the morsels Ignis had painstakingly prepared. It was a comfortable, content silence, and they both laughed when the chocobos rushed over, eager to sample some of the treats.

Noctis tossed them his portion of vegetables, and they pecked at the ground madly.

Prompto flicked a piece of carrot at Noctis’s head, and guffawed loudly when the black chocobo attacked his hair, trying to retrieve it. He pulled out his camera to take a few shots, but found the camera harmlessly rolling out of his hand, as Noctis lunged for him.

Containers and food went flying as Noctis tackled him, and the pair rolled about on the rug, speechless with their own laughter. Their breaths mingled together as their faces were mere millimetres apart, and Prompto was hopeless to prevent himself from capturing Noctis’s mouth in an abrupt kiss, arching up into the other male’s body and wrapping his arms around the prince’s neck.

Noctis’s lips were wind-bitten from the race they had taken, but Prompto didn’t flinch at the dry texture. He enjoyed the steady pressure of their lips connecting, and moaned in perturbation when the prince made to pull away, tugging on his raven locks persistently.

“Mm _Noct_ ,” He whined, when the prince yanked backwards. “ _Wha’s wrong_ -“

Noctis hushed him harshly, separating from Prompto hastily. His eyes were narrowed, and flying about their surroundings.

Alarmed, Prompto flew upwards. “Noct, what’s wrong-“ His words were nearly drowned out by a sudden, animalistic shrieking. His eyes widened in horror and understanding. “Noct, the chocobos!” He jumped to his feet, and was shocked to realise that in the few short moments he and Noctis had been kissing, the two birds had seemingly disappeared.

Instantly, he made to run in the direction he had heard the hair-raising sound, but Noctis grabbed his arm.

“No!” He snapped.

“But Noct, we can’t just _leave_ them-“

“I can’t go any further! I’m reaching the limit of the boundary the Glacian laid-“

Irrational, Prompto broke free. “I can handle it!” He told the prince with certainty. “Just wait here!”

“Prompto, _wait-“_

But Prompto had already sprinted off, leaving the prince to gape after him in fear and disbelief. 

_So much for a fun, **confrontation-free** date._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another dramatic ending, because apparently I like writing soap operas ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Next chapter will have a bit of an altercation and then the remainder of the date Noctis planned :D
> 
> Thanks for all of your reviews. Please lemme know what you think of this chapter, if you'd like :)
> 
> ALSO I've been working on another FFXV story. Simply put, it's about Prompto and autism. Feel free to check it out if you're into those kind of fics, it's different to this one, though :D
> 
> Have a nice day/night wherever you are!


	19. What a breathtaking thrilling array

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Prompto run into some trouble, and in the ensuing chaos Prompto forges a stronger bond with the prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone reading. I'm really sorry about how long it's taken me to update. I haven't updated anything I've written in about four months. Partly because I've been busy, and partly because I've been feeling a little demotivated when it comes to writing. 
> 
> This story in particular is hard. I never intended for it to go this long, but I'll keep updating until it's finished. The end is finally coming into sight :)

  


* * *

  


  


The decision to run off and confront the source of the monstrous sounds was impulsive, Prompto had to inwardly admit. It was a reckless action he’d likely be scolded for, _if_ he managed to get out of whatever skirmish was happening _alive._  

He felt a sense of adrenaline flooding through his body, still hyper-alert from the kiss he had shared with Noctis, and he neglected to wonder if the prince would follow, automatically assuming that he would have the sense to remain behind. Noctis was reaching the limits of the boundary, after all, and the blond had already learned the repercussions of trying to breach them. Attempting such a thing would only lead to pain, and he was certain Noctis would prefer to forego that when he could.

So the speedy blond darted in the direction of the hair-raising shrieks, only half-prepared to deal with a threat if it presented itself. He was hoping that whatever creature was hassling the chocobos would be scared off by a human presence.

Or, on the unlikely chance that they were daemons, that they would be low-level ones who would flee the scene. He may not have seemed much like a threat, but Prompto had learned over time that a vast majority of beasts were more scared of humans than their raised hackles and bared fangs would initially have you believe. So long as he didn’t trigger an aggressive defence response, he should be fine to retrieve the chocobos…

_I just need to be confident. **I can do this.**_

If Prompto were being completely honest with himself, part of his decision to leave Noctis without hatching a plan was because he wanted to prove himself to the prince, and everybody else who inhabited the castle. Ardyn, as well.

He was tired of being treated like a weak, fickle creature that needed constant babysitting. He may not have been a muscled bodyguard, or a coolly clever advisor, but he had held his own against beasts more than once in his career as a wildlife photographer. Getting the perfect shot oftentimes meant venturing close, and retreating was always harder after that. Certainly, he’d never really _fought_ any of the creatures, but speed and self-preservation always won out in the end. He didn’t need weapons to survive, although he certainly would have liked one on many occasions. ~~The time when he’d nearly been dragged to a watery grave by sea-beasts stood out in his mind particularly starkly.~~

He could prove himself, _and_ save the chocobos. A perfect combination.

_They’ll see I’m not helpless without Ardyn. Ardyn will see I’m not a child anymore…_

And he could continue his date with Noctis on a high. Maybe the prince would even compliment him, call him _brave_ …

Before Prompto can admire the thought further, he’s sliding past the outcropping of trees and shrubbery, reaching a hill that overlooks the ruins of Insomnia. He’s rather close, actually, and underfoot is ice and long-crumpled concrete. It’s a dangerous position, with no good vantage point, or true place to hide. The chocobos themselves are backed up to the very edge of the hill, wings fluffed high and still voicing their distress in high-pitched squawks. Their claws rest uneven on the mushy earth, slipping slowly downwards.

Before the poor birds looms an assortment of terrifying daemons. The sight of their grotesque figures is enough to turn Prompto’s stomach, and he holds back on the urge to retch. They are far more horrifying to behold than the tiny, clawed imps he sometimes came across in his line of work…

They weren’t gibbering like imps, either. They were snarling and roaring, utterly unhinged and beyond reason. They didn’t seem the sorts to flee from lesser prey, and since Prompto wasn’t even as _tall_ as some of them, let alone strong or experienced in combat…

His bravado from earlier abruptly fizzled out, and he gulped in realisation.

_Oh fuck. I am **way** out of my league. _

These daemons could rip him apart limb from limb, and would likely feast on his innards as he moaned in absolute agony. He didn’t even recognise their breed, not that he currently had the time to analyse their physical characteristics. It was a miracle they had yet to notice him-

As if attuned to his panicked thoughts, one of the daemons scented the air with a moist snout, before rounding on him with a deep growl. It was loud enough to make Prompto’s teeth rattle in his mouth, and he resisted the urge to step back, knowing that such a sudden movement would encourage the daemon to pounce. He needed to inch back at a slow, steady pace…

As much as it sickened him, he knew, logically, that he hadn’t the means to save the chocobos. Even if he sacrificed his life, it likely wouldn’t be enough.

And although he had low self-esteem, did he really want to die just for the sake of some birds? Prompto may have adored chocobos, but he still had a whole life ahead of him. A life, he might add, he still hadn’t managed to start fully living.

He couldn’t die now, not without breaking the curse. All of the hardship and mental strain he had suffered would be for naught, and Ardyn would have _nobody_ , something the man had clearly loathed in the past. So even if it meant abandoning the birds, despite being fiercely fond of them, he’d do it. He had no choice.

This was adulthood. Realising that all of his childhood morals about _‘doing anything to save a pet’_ could easily be squashed in a life or death situation. If he thought he had the slimmest chance…

_I don’t have any weapon. I should have at least had the sense to pick up one of the knives Ignis packed, or that glass bottle of wine. A shard might have been enough._

Abandoning them felt truly wretched. His heart ached for Noctis, who had known the creatures for much longer. He’d likely even helped raise them. It must have hurt awfully for him to have to leave them behind…

But the prince had been mature enough not to jeopardise his life. He had known, even through the despair of losing something you loved, that self-preservation was important, and that your life should be measured more highly than a couple of birds. Particularly if you were a prince.

Perhaps it was a maturity an extra ten years had brought him.

The daemon barrelled forward, and Prompto felt sweat dripping copiously from his brow. He felt short of breath, and light-headed. He was panicking, and he didn’t feel capable of calming himself down. He’d never learned the survival instincts for these sorts of scenarios. All of Ardyn’s lessons had centred on catching small live prey, and harvesting herbs…

None of which Prompto had particularly absorbed, mind you.

Just as he was about to forego his plan and run away as fast as his wobbly legs could carry him, he saw a shimmering of blue out of his peripherals, before Noctis warped into existence before him, extending a blade right through the gaping mouth of the daemon. Black ooze dripped from its jaw as it gave a dying scream, and Prompto instinctively covered his ears at the disturbing sound. It began to melt away in a sea of black, but Prompto had no chance to truly watch.

Noctis, who had suddenly appeared before him, grabbed his arm, warping up a nearby tree and depositing him hastily on the sturdiest branch. The decaying tree tilted precariously under their added weight, the roots partially unearthed, but Noctis paid it no mind. His unoccupied hand glimmered for a moment, before a sleek, silver gun materialised in his palm. He pushed it into Prompto’s shaking hands immediately, eyes narrowed. “Use this if you need to.” He ordered, voice short. There was no breathlessness, despite the fact he had clearly ran and warped to catch up to Prompto. “ _Don’t_ hop down from the tree.  I’ll deal with this.”

“But-“ Prompto fisted Noctis’s jacket desperately, eyes wide and pleading. “Doesn’t it hurt? This has to be right on the border. If it pains you-“

“We have no choice.” Noctis hissed out, from between clenched teeth. His form had suddenly began to shake, sweat dripping from him in droves. The effect of the border was instantaneous, and Prompto was scared to see how quick it had progressed. A mere second later, and the prince was huffing from pained exertion, as if he’d been struck in the chest. “The daemons will only pursue us if we run, and I can’t protect you if we’re on the defensive. This needs to be dealt with _now_.”

“Noct,” Prompto held the fabric tighter, pulling the prince close so that he could rest his forehead on Prompto’s shoulder. “You can’t fight like this. Let’s just wait until they leave, okay?” Hearing the chocobos being mauled to death was hardly ideal, but Prompto wasn’t about to run the risk of Noctis being gravely injured. He’d never seen the prince fight, and had no real estimate of his ability. Those daemons looked _strong._

“They’ll try and climb, or knock the tree down.” Noctis’s breath is warm and damp, as he shifts his face away to better regard Prompto. “This won’t take long. I know what I’m doing.”

“That would be more reassuring if you didn’t look like a gust of wind could knock you out, man.” Prompto managed to joke, weakly.

“I’ve been in worse fights before, and with bigger handicaps. Just stay here, okay? Promise.” Noctis’s gaze is intense as he requests this, and Prompto finds himself nodding immediately, unable to disobey the prince when he was asking with such desperation.

Instead, he clutched the gun closer, fingers tracing the cool metal. It felt at home in his hands. “I won’t move.” He said sincerely. “ ** _I promise_**.”

“Good.” Noctis nodded, unsteadily. “And close your eyes, this won’t be pretty.”

Prompto wanted to assert himself. To say he could handle the monstrous sight, but the truth was…

He’d never seen such petrifying beasts before. They looked as if they’d morphed from the most disturbing of horror fables, or a nightmare that would leave even the toughest of individuals with urine soaked sheets.

His eyelids clenched shut, and he leans into Noctis’s comforting touch when the prince runs a hand over his face in reassurance. His palms are dripping with perspiration. “I’ll be back soon. I’m…sorry I let this happen. We never should have gotten so close to the border.”

Before Prompto has the chance to rebuff Noctis’s self-blame, the prince’s overheated presence is gone, and he hears the sleek _schlick_ of a blade being buried in a daemon, and the resounding screech it made as it perished.

The prince truly was amazing in his prowess with weaponry.

_I suppose he’s had his whole life to practice. It’s almost a shame not to watch…_

**_Wait._ **

_If I don’t watch, how will I know if he gets into trouble?_

This realisation caused Prompto’s eyes to fly open, and he focused his vision on Noctis. Thank Gods for the invention that was contact lenses. His glasses surely would have shattered by now if he was wearing them…

The prince was moving at an astounding speed. A pace only accomplishable through the aid of his inherited warping ability. Despite this though, he was hunched slightly at the waist, evidently still in excruciating pain. Prompto recalled what Ignis had told him, about how Gladio had been sick for a week after wilfully crossing the border…

_Even at this rate I don’t think he’s going to hold out._

Prompto’s hypothesis was only reinforced when Noctis’s next landing on a nearby chunk of rubble was shaky, nearly causing him to lose his footing and plummet into the fangs bared at him from below. To make matters even worse, more daemons seemed to be appearing, spawning as if from one of the video games Prompto liked to play at arcades. If only he could eliminate them like he could the virtual ones, he nearly always got a high-score on the shooting games…

_Shooting. Shooting. SHOOTING!_

Prompto remembered the gun he was still cradling with sudden clarity, eyes widening as he raised the weapon to regard it with new-dawning. He may have only used a plastic gun attached to a cord before, but he never missed in the game. Not to mention, Noctis had complimented him on his aim when they had waged war in that snowball fight. He’d probably be a decent shot if he gave himself a chance…

_So long as I don’t shoot near Noct…_

What was the harm in trying? The best case scenario would mean that Noctis had to kill less daemons, and the fight would be resolved much sooner. Then they could rescue the chocobos as well…

Steadying his hand with a sort of natural intuition he seldom felt, Prompto aimed the firearm at the daemon closest to Noctis, lining up his shot with surprising grace. He pulled the trigger, and a bullet embedded itself in the back of the daemon’s head seamlessly.

The sound of the round firing was muted compared to the noises below, and Prompto marvelled over how exquisitely designed the gun was. It fit perfectly in his hand, balanced and well-proportioned, and the sound of it firing wasn’t half as loud as the shotguns the hunters seemed to favour. And Cid, whenever some of the more persistent traveller’s kept hassling Cindy when the woman was trying to work.

Prompto had been one of them, once. Dewy-eyed as he watched her working underneath a car, hoping desperately for her to acknowledge him.

With the benefit of hindsight, he felt rather foolish now. He’d never had a chance with her.

Ardyn had been right.

Ardyn was _always-_

**_Focus._ ** _Don’t get distracted. Not now. Noct is relying on me._

Resolving not to let thoughts of self-doubt distract him, Prompto took aim at another daemon, this one hazardously close to the chocobo he had been riding earlier. Noctis seemed to be handling himself alright at the moment, so he may as well dispatch as many as he could to lighten the load for the prince. The sooner the daemons were dead, the sooner they could flee…

Although fleeing seemed an idealistic dream, presently. New daemons were reappearing moments after old ones met their demise. It was a vicious, unrelenting cycle, and Prompto knew the prince must have been feeling exhausted. Not to mention the pain…

_I need to shoot faster. If I can make an opening…_

It was a good thing the gun seemed to have an endless supply of bullets. Re-loading would have been a costly error to make.

Prompto’s chaotic thoughts seemed to slow as he methodically picked off the daemons one by one, his mind solely focused on protecting the prince and lightening his load. At some point, his quick-shooting outstripped the prince’s killing with his blade, and Noctis, so transfixed on his task, finally noticed that Prompto was contributing. His heavily-lidded eyes seemed to bulge open when he spotted the blond shooting, and he stopped in his tracks to call out. “Prompto! Stop! You could hurt yourself with the recoil!”

“I’m fine!” Prompto called back. Then, when the prince’s inattention caused a daemon to get within an inch of the prince’s neck, he fired a shot straight into the beast’s gaping mouth. Noctis jolted, momentarily afraid Prompto was aiming at him, but relaxed significantly when he realised the other male had just saved him from a gory death. His flushed face broke into a miffed smile, but it took visible effort for him to remain upright. “Just look after yourself!” Prompto had the nerve to continue. “I can handle myself!”

“Fine.” Noctis said, permissibly. “Watch my back!”

The simple, three-worded sentence caused a thrill to go through Prompto’s veins.

**Watch my back.**

Nobody had _ever_ showed Prompto that much trust before. Even Ardyn. The man was always so busy trying to protect Prompto that he limited his son’s own abilities…

It was a nice feeling. To be relied upon. To be trusted with something so intimate. He felt a bond with Noctis in that moment. One different from before. A bond of trust and reliance.

Prompto gave the prince a hasty salute and followed his commands, taking out the daemons at his back as Noctis launched a frontal assault. Working in tandem like this was far more effective, and the flow of daemons began to ebb, although Prompto wasn’t sure if that was due to their new teamwork or some outside factor. Maybe they weren’t hungry for bird anymore?

Regardless, the chocobos had bolted the moment they’d gotten the chance, and Prompto hoped they would return once the fight was over, otherwise it would be a long walk back to the castle. Ignis would probably have a fit if they were outside late at night…

Eventually though, the power of the boundary won out over Noctis’s wilfulness. The stubborn prince collapsed to the ground, convulsing in some strange fit that had Prompto’s heart pounding heavily.

Prompto was leaping from the tree as soon as he saw Noctis’s eyes roll back in his skull, landing awkwardly on his left ankle. He ignored the pain, limping to the prince’s side and shooting at the few daemons that remained. On the ground, he could smell the thick black ooze they left behind, decaying and faintly chemical. He even trod through a pile, the sludgy substance sticking to the bottom of his shoes and pants unpleasantly.

_I hope I won’t be billed for damaging these clothes._

Prompto pulled the prince onto his side, checking that his airway was clear. There was no froth or vomit in his mouth, thankfully, but his shakes were only becoming more frenzied.

_I need to get him out of here, but it will be difficult moving him when he’s shaking like that…_

Lifting him was out of the question. His limbs were uncontrolled. He could hurt Prompto _or_ himself. Waiting for the inevitable search party wasn’t feasible either. The prince’s condition would only worsen the longer he was past the border…

That left only one other path of action to take.

Grabbing firmly onto Noctis’s jolting leg, Prompto took a deep breath, and started dragging the prince across the mushy ground. He tried his hardest to avoid outcroppings and rubble, sticking instead to the uneven earth. The prince coming into contact with the rapidly fading ooze was unavoidable, and Prompto hated how the liquid tainted Noctis’s skin and clumped his raven hair.

_For such a slim guy, Noct sure is heavy. Maybe it’s all the layers he is wearing…_

With no small amount of effort, Prompto eventually got them back into the forest, and he was relieved to note that the severity of Noctis’s fit receded the further they got from the clearing, his shakes slowly fading to a faint, but still noticeable, tremor. His eyes had long slid shut, and Prompto hushed the prince gently when he tried to force them open. “I’ve got you buddy,” He assured, as convincingly as he could manage. “I’ve got you.”

That unmistakable feeling of a connecting bond returned when the prince seemed to listen to him, allowing his eyes to fall shut once more and his body to rest.

_He trusts me._

It felt taboo to feel happy in such stressful circumstances, but Prompto couldn’t deny the joy he felt swelling his chest. Noctis _trusted him_ , as an **_equal._**

Prompto had to stop and take a few deep breaths during his slow-dragging of Noctis, as the adrenaline and shock gradually left his body, leaving an exhaustion behind he had never experienced before. It must have been the tiredness of a hard battle deservedly won…

He nearly wept when he saw the two chocobos waiting for them at the abandoned picnic rug. His muscles were aching, and his throat felt parched. Still, he held back on relieving his own discomforts, choosing to instead mop up Noctis’s sweat-sodden face with a few napkins, and wash out the few abrasions and cuts he had the best he could. Ignis would likely slaughter him if the prince came back with an infection…

Prompto gave the chocobos a short visual inspection, and was relieved to note that aside from a few shredded feathers, they appeared entirely healthy. “Thank you.” He breathed gratefully, stroking their beaks.

_As loyal as dogs. Chocobos are **awesome.**_

Prompto bundled Noctis in the mat and packed away the picnic. Although his jittery nerves urged him to leave quickly, he didn’t want to leave anything behind. He also needed a few moments to gather himself, before he hauled Noctis onto his chocobo. They’d have to ride together, even though the added weight wouldn’t be comfortable for the chocobo…

Noctis was hardly in a state to be supporting himself, and Prompto didn’t want to run the risk of him falling off and injuring himself further.

Considerately, Prompto packed the supplies onto the other chocobo, wanting to lighten the burden on the other bird. He laced its reins together with the one he had ridden earlier. “I don’t want us to be separated.” He explained, when she appeared positively affronted with the limitation. “We need to stay together…”

As if understanding, she gave a small chirrup, remaining still as Prompto heaved Noctis onto the saddle, huffing with exertion all the while. The prince rested his head on her neck, mouth gaping, and Prompto was unable to resist the urge to snap a short photograph. He closed his jaw after, of course, not wanting Noctis to choke on a mouthful of feathers.

_After disaster shot…_

Prompto thought wryly, as he swung onto the saddle. His feet fitted into the stirrups easily, and he carefully wrapped one arm around Noctis’s waist, not wanting the dozing prince to jerk around too much over the uneven terrain. His other hand rested on the reins, and he clicked his tongue gently to urge the chocobos forward. “I hope you guys know which way home is.” Prompto murmured. “Otherwise we’re camping tonight.”

 

* * *

  


It’s hard to keep his eyes open, but Prompto manages to stay awake during the entirety of the trip back to the stables. His bird had started slowing half way back, her legs shuddering under their shared weight, so he’d continued on foot, leading the two chocobos whilst keeping a firm hand on Noctis.

The prince had stirred a few times, but drifted back off at Prompto’s quiet mumblings of assurance. He needed rest to recover from the ordeal, from breaching the border…

The muscles in Prompto’s legs had seized up long ago. His entire form felt numb. Urging his feet forward was an immense struggle…

And he’s only just now realising the gun he had been using had long since disappeared from his hands. Likely it had returned to the armiger when he’d stopped using it…

He was incredibly lucky no other daemons had appeared. He wouldn’t know how to summon it again to defend them.

And because the Astrals seriously seemed to have a hard-on for causing him misery, nobody is at the stables to greet them.

Perhaps this is deliberate. Perhaps Noctis had planned for privacy upon their return. Perhaps he’d wanted them to laugh and have fun as they dismantled and rubbed down the chocobos…

A beautiful date, in theory.

Now their lack of supervision was only a hindrance. Prompto would have to take the chocobo down the steep decline to the citadel…

There was no time to stew over it. Prompto couldn’t afford for self-pity right now.

Noctis was relying on him.

And by extension, so was everybody else.

The Lucians were lost without their prince.

 

* * *

  


“We don’t want to _kill_ Noctis!” Ravus is visibly seething, his dual-coloured eyes locked onto Ardyn. “He is the Chosen King! And _who knows_ what will happen if he dies whilst the curse is active! We could all die as well! The Glacian was particularly frugal in her explanation.”  


“And your dear sister did not glean more information throughout the years of them plotting together?” Ardyn’s tone is apathetic, uncaring. “Come now,” He went on, when Ravus merely glowered. “They must conspire more often than you are led to believe. How else would they have been conniving enough to trick my son?”

“ _Your son_ ,” The two words are filled with disgust. “Was not tricked. He was _enlightened_.”

“Are you a worshipper as well as a chained mongrel?”

“Anyone is a worshipper compared to you, _Accursed_.”

“Ah, it seems you are still under the impression I find that title an insult. It’s quite to the contrary, you see. I find the status of ‘Oracle’ _far_ more demeaning. And as for you…” Ardyn tutted in an infuriating manner. “You lost all status when _mother dearest_ was-“

“Speak of my mother with that foul, sinful tongue of yours, and I’ll cut it out.” Ravus interjected, cold as ice. “Or better yet, I’ll march straight to Prompto and tell him of your scheming. Do you truly think he’ll forgive you if he finds out you summoned those daemons?”

Ardyn held back a grimace, keeping his face smooth and smarmy from century’s long practice. “But that would be counter-productive to our plan, and ultimately damaging for you, Ravus. If your sister were to discover you conspired with _the Accursed_ …” He trailed off, thoughtfully. “Well, she’d probably forgive you, naïve twit she is. The others however…”

“Do not insult my sister!”

“Then stow your impudent tongue and do not speak of things _you know not_. It was never my intention to kill Noctis. If I wanted him dead, I would have dispatched him myself, in a particularly ruthless fashion. The protection in this castle is _laughable_. Not that conventional security measures could hinder one such as myself…”

Ardyn’s smug voice makes Ravus grind his teeth. “Then what was the point of that entire exercise? The crystal grows dimmer by the day, we don’t have _time_ for your petty games. I’m sure it must have been quite amusing to watch Noctis in such agony, before _your own son_ put an end to your fun. It must have been a nasty surprise to see him fighting for the wrong king.”

If the words smarted at all, Ardyn gave no indication. Evidently he did not wish to give Ravus the satisfaction of seeing him lose his composure. The former prince knew better, though. He’d witnessed firsthand the expression Ardyn had pulled when Prompto had fired that gun, before he’d had a chance to smother it with his usual smirk. Unbridled fury, and a sense of worry Ravus had previously thought impossible for the immortal monster to feel.

“It was merely a little experiment of mine.” Ardyn replied, loftily. “A test, if you will.”

“A test.” Ravus repeated, unimpressed. “You wasted my entire day for a mere test. I hope the results you received will prove fruitful, otherwise I believe our truce will be short-lived.”

“Tut. Such hastiness. What would your dear mother say? She certainly didn’t raise a mannerly prince, did she? Your courtesy leaves _much_ to be desired.”

“I do not extend courtesy to **_murderers_** , doting fathers or otherwise.”

“I had a hypothesis about the boundary that I wanted to prove. I also wanted to observe the duration of time the imposter prince could remain in fighting condition outside of it, and how debilitating the effects of exposure to the Glacian’s curse was. I had wondered if there was an exception for him, if she’d show him mercy as he battled daemons to save his _supposed true love._ It is only further evidence that the conditions of the curse are a mere farce. My son was in genuine danger so far from the citadel. If I had not been present…”

“He was only _‘in danger’_ because you summoned those daemons.” Ravus reminded, slowly. A frown was furrowing his silver eyebrows as he regarded Ardyn. How deluded had the man become since he adopted that golden-haired brat? He seemed to lose all logic and comprehension skills whenever the boy was involved.

“Knowledge is power. The answers I sought are now mine.” Ardyn concluded, disregarding Ravus’s words entirely, like the man hadn’t spoken. _O_ r, he was ignoring them mulishly. “I have already concocted a plan, but your…co-operation will be needed for it to succeed. Are we still in agreement?”

“So long as this plan does not endanger my sister, we are.”

Ardyn clapped his broad hands together, adjusting his hat as a gust of particularly harsh and icy wind blustered over them. “Splendid. Now, how about we go our separate ways? We can’t have anybody growing suspicious of your absence, and I fancy a cup of tea.”

“Very well.”

  


* * *

  


  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another end to one of these chapters. If any of this writing feels stiff, it's because I'm trying really hard to write it. I hope it's still enjoyable though :)
> 
> I can't make any estimates about when the next chapter will be, but I do intend to post one eventually. I'm eager for this story to FINALLY end.


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